POEM for THE EXORCIST
Vargas Llosa
My life seems without mystery and
Monotonous
whom I see
of way to the office
rushed mornings.
The truth is very different.
Every night I go out and fight
against an evil spirit
that, using
costumes-dog, cricket,
cloud, rain, vague,
thief is
infiltrate the city
to spoil human life
sowing
discord.
Despite their costumes I
always discover
and horror.
It has never gotten trick
nor defeat.
Thanks
to me, in this city
still possible
happiness.
But the night fighting me
leave exhausted and bruised.
In return for my
skirmishes against the enemy,
I ask some leftovers
of affection and friendship.
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