Why as many dissabores in this world? Why the rejection is so deep feeling? Why some questions are so difficult to make? They prevent why them to answer? Why for an error they crucificam in them? Why exactly suffering the people they are not unified? It is love lack or it is much pain? Why penalty is easy to have? Why the difficult is to help? Why they advise giving up? Why they do not support persisting? Why it is easy to speak badly? Why it is difficult to pass for equal feeling? It is individualism or it is nazism? Why it is easy to love? Why it is difficult to pardon? Why at moments alone we remember us? Why we forget our parents and grandmothers? Why we are surrounded of illusions? Do not prezam our hearts? Why the anger is a so common feeling? Why, we to help the next ones do not have value none? Because of our comodismo the world is not better Finds that already it passed worse The hope and love lack They take off our confidence We ask for peace, But, for this nobody nothing makes The life if shows unjust in some times This, ace times, dumb our feelings and now that some people had been even so a certain concern Appears Concern that in the future we will see not to pass of plus an illusion. . .