"Verses in passing It is a project that fills the pedestrian crossings of our streets with poetry, to accompany our walks through the city.

It was created as an initiative of the Madrid City Council, to remind us of the importance and value of poetic writing and reading, as well as the fundamental act of walking and how, through our steps, we can reclaim the urban environment.

Every day, we all traverse our own personal Madrid, often without a second thought. The vast majority of us rush into our daily routines, barely aware of the city around us, in an almost automatic journey whose sole purpose is reaching our destination. And yet, in our philosophical and literary tradition, walking, and especially leisurely walking, is a poetic act in itself. A stroll is the ideal state for literary creation and inspiration, philosophical reflection, and the appreciation of beauty. Walking the paths is healthy for our physical well-being, but above all, for our mental health.

Verses Along the Way champions the reflective and creative stroll, introducing literary creation and the surprise of unexpected discoveries into our daily walks. It has done so by asking everyone which of their own verses or poetic phrases they would like to contribute to be written on the asphalt. More than 20.000 proposals were received, and a committee of experts from the world of literature has selected the 1.100 verses that you can now find at every turn on the streets of Madrid. Poetry by everyone, for everyone, so that together we can build the city by writing and walking.

Text taken from the website of the Madrid City Council.

+ COMPLETE LIST WITH ALL 1.100 VERSES:

• If you love me, verses. — DulceLola
• Because living is almost — Abraham Gragera
• "To shine, which is two syllables" — Santi Balmes
• I'm just asking for a pause, you rewind — Izal
• Everything must be let go — Leonor Antón
• Fade away with me before everything dies — Tarque
• In treble clef, I pluck your diaeresis — Gus
• May the city be with you. — Cristina Bergoglio
• So many streets to walk, so many things to experience — Miguel Campello
• The word "heart" holds all the struggles — Joaquín Calderón
• I am who I think — Gema García Mejías
• An epic story awaits us — Alejandro González Sánchez
• Defend your wings. — Ana Pérez Cañamares
• Live, damn it, live — Patricia Benito
• Sometimes one returns to a city / to a body — Isabel Cadenas Cañón
• Life belongs to the brave — Sara Landeta
• Reading is the way. — Juan Carlevaris García
• Be that deep pause, be your smallest print. — El Drogas
• All the earth I own I carry in my shoes — Miriam Reyes
• Living is not about lasting — Rodrigo Cortés
• Silence continues to create — Fernando Calvo
• I leave the world when I enter you — Ángel Guinda
• Literature is distance — Coriolano González Montañez
• "Are you homosexual?" "I have no idea." — Maria Negroni
• You leave, and everything stops. — Marina Carretero
• Letting go is a word that binds me — Patricia Andrada
• You've caught me picking up the pieces of an afternoon — Elsa Veiga
• Freckles. In all their meanings. — Miguel San José
• All my longings were this — Silvi Orion
• Poetry: A window that was born a mirror. — Dudu Fdez
• Cry like a man. — Roy Galán
• Without you, eternity dwells in an hourglass — skinny
• And from searching so much, he got lost — Iñigo Ruiz Pérez
• Solitude comes after being. — Jaime Refoyo
• Together is Better — Patty de Frutos
• Don't stray from yourself. — Trinidad Ruiz Marcellán
• How's the silk going? — Sergio C. Fanjul
• It's not jumping into the void if it's full of us — Carlos Salem
• Follow the signs. — Sagra
• Here I defiled my beatitude — Jesús Fernández Úbeda
• I called her and she came in red wine — Alejandro Zamorano Castillo
• Even nothingness has something — Félix Valdivieso
• Stop, Homo sapiens! — María González Llovet
• Meekness is a deer wounded by stars — Cecilia Quílez
• We are what survives. — Felipe Zapico Alonso
• They have the clock, I have the time — Depedro
• I may be affectionate, but you will be my muse — Fede and Clara
• We are loans of heat — José María Castrillón Suárez
• From a heart of stone sprouts a stem — Marina Oroza
• Where do I begin if I don't remember the beginning? — Darmo
• Silence the city. In the pause, you hear yourself. — Macarena Castaño Carrasco
• More Love and Fewer Gigabytes — José Miguel Cuervo Baños
• Heal me, wind, come to me and take me far away. — Morgan
• Gure itzalek iraganean deklinatzen dute. —Hasier Larretxea
• Love doesn't kill. — Miguel Ángel Jiménez Jara
• Time flies by with you — Carlos Ussía Bescós
• Dyslexic love: the rest of your life on my side — Alba Ribas
• Every gaze desires — Pablo Messiez
• Half a truth is already a whole lie — Benjamin Prado
• To sew a body with a syllable. And cradle it — Luis Luna
• You know the way and you haven't come back — Patricia Benito
• Madrid hurts me. — Lu
• Everyday life, the lyrics dance in the open air — Clémence Loonis
• Beneath the asphalt, the flowers — Mario Tascón
• Let's move from seeing each other to truly looking at each other. — Lage
• For my vulva, for my vulva, for my great vulva. — Roy Galán
• You'll be searching for the north, and I'll be lost in this jungle. — Sergio Ibáñez Senovilla
• To be yours. To be mine. — Irene G Punto
• I find something very brave in the flower — David Efe
• I keep for you the bitter secret I forgot within myself — Carlos Bruno Castaneda
• You look beautiful with wings. — Álvaro Sanz
• I can't see at night — Nacho, 7 years old
• On the other side of the mirror, nothing is reality — Bacø
• There's a desert in the city; nobody wants to cross it alone. — Tarque
• Before we surrendered, we were eternal — Ismael Serrano
• Your gel nails, the outskirts of my junkyard — Marisa Muss
• When you lose your curiosity, you will have gained old age — Isidro Moreno Carrascosa
• Without haste but with prose — KH
• A path of steps in verses — Carmen Lázaro Diaz
• We have a plan — Manuel Marcos
• Walking leaves a mark. — Luis Aguilar Vera
• The world was given to us in a first heartbeat without memory — Cecilia Domínguez
• You are nostalgia in advance — Wilma Lorenzo
• I am of the air that carries the spore of sadness — Sara Caviedes
• Nothing matters in the city if nobody's waiting — Fito Páez
• I love watching you soak. — Beatriz Fernández Alonso
• I love you, but it's not just for a while, it's forever — Alejandro Priego
• What I didn't tell you haunts me. — Mrs. Draper
• From failure and bewilderment to the street of silence — Pablo Alborán
• I don't know where the tree is a bird and where it's a branch... that's how it is — Nuria Ruiz de Viñaspre
• Without critical thinking, we are just theater — Shaman
• He loves me, he doesn't hurt me. He hurts me, he doesn't love me. — Blon
• Traveling is putting a face to what were once just maps — María Ares Candal
• A glance exchanged — Javier Montes
• Poetry is born from the humiliation of the poet — María Antonia Ortega
• He also feels the pain of the blow he has just beaten in the ring — Rafa Pons
• I am afraid of the vastness where no one hears my voice — Antonio Vega
• In the midst of silence, the human ear invents music — Pilar Adón
• Because I had clean hands, I've stepped on too many ants — Nea Thea
• I stood my ground and flowers bloomed. — Jousca
• Kiss me before we cross — Lady Hills20
• That's the inside: a story where it's snowing outside — Pilar Martín Gila
• The best is yet to come, the worst has already been cried. — Ruzpunch
• Let every border be a zebra crossing — Chantal Maillard
• My favorite color is seeing you — 116
• What good is walking the path if you don't feel your own footsteps? — Soraya Morán Enríquez
• If you fight you might lose, if you don't fight you're already lost — Pau
• The vertigo in your eyes helps me overcome my fears. — Sara Chinchilla Ruiz
• I don't want any more drama in my life, I'll escape like Dorothy to Oz — Fangoria
• The soul has no color — Antonio Remache
• And we will be like two sparrows nesting between the trains. — Patxi Foronda Valdés
• Let's let the air flow and say goodbye — Iván Ferreiro
• Kisses you don't intend to drink, leave them thirsty — Violet La Velvet
• Life is better with you in it — Celia Blanco
• It's not what you die for, it's what you live for — Kamikaze
• Who knows what a verse under a crest is? — Kike Babas
• It takes two to tango — mylagripina
• Every beautiful word is clothed in a film of silence — María Elena Higueruelo
• Climb aboard and add some height to the vertigo — Sidecars
• Maturing is about moving from branches to roots — Samir Abu-Tahoun
• Helmuga baino, ibildidea nahiago — Oier lantzi
• I contemplate the indelible marks you left on me — Charlie HB
• Starting over…as if nothing had happened. — Beatriz Pizarro Serrano
• I love you like a musician loves: E, A, C. — Martin Gil
• To be brave in a man's world is to be a woman — Escandar Algeet
• You name me an active member of the end of the world along with you — Peru Saizprez
• To you, who knew how to read in me all that I never managed to write — Ane Atutxa Lekerika
• This is the time of change, the future is within reach — Miguel Ríos
• I burn if you touch my skin, and if you leave I'm burned — Swan Fyahbwoy
• Open your arms in light. — Guillermo Gardel
• Freedom to write, freedom to erase — Antonio Jiménez Paz
• You are what you do — Jesús Vargas
• Love me until my ego fades away — Lanza
• A lake, near a lake. Words like fish — India Toctli
• Cowardice is measured in "if onlys"... — Bachi
• Let the world talk, meanwhile, love yourself — Defreds
• I come straight to the straight path by the most crooked one — Robe Iniesta
• Walk happily among the people through lively streets that watch you pass by — Ramoncín
• Walking on fire, setting it ablaze, that's what man is — Esther Bendahan
• We end up being just feelings hidden in people — Claudia del Pozo Monteagudo
• Bird of wonder, take flight — Paloma Espartero
• I look at the clouds, but there's just no way — Toño Soria
• Everything passes, one step at a time. — Teyi
• Il faut accepter la deriva avant de prendre un nouveau cap — A. Vélez
• A touch of madness cures everything — Cristina M.ª Menéndez Maldonado
• The asphalt blooms beneath your steps — Jokin Epelde Domínguez
• Listen to the sounds of the city. And now, imagine it's music. — Isabel Rivas Etxaniz
• Make your head a better world! — Pat
• If you were never a knot, you could never be a bond. — Alfredo Domeño
• Sotto i tuoi piedi la terra splende — Laura Pugno
• Jump over me as if I were your destiny. — Dolores Quebranto
• To keep burning today, perhaps to wake up tomorrow — Enrique Bolaños
• And even if they change the song, we will always dance together — Mª Carmen Montiel Molina
• Don't let the sirens deceive you — Julia Navarro
• Approach carefully, beneath this skin I am beating — Alicia Louzao
• With luck on his heels — Raúl Álvarez Valera
• Smiling is my favorite language. — Alicia Ramos Álvarez
• The preacher's sermon is the fool's prayer — Carmen Boza
• Let's steal the hours from the clock. — Rocío Garrido Lozano
• Better utopian than typical. — VdeCafe
• How much light is needed to live through darkness? — Violeta Medina
• Time heals all wounds. It's understood with age. — Gazituaga
• We're just a hug away. — Cristina González Monterrubio
• From yes to no there is only one petal — Maisa Lázaro Martín
• Children will set us free — María Díaz Torres
• Zebra crossing. I'm skipping you. — Ana Lamona
• Sometimes democracy reflects on how not to be democracy — Diego Doncel
• Poetry blossoms in Madrid. We are verses with roots — Irene G Punto
• There's nothing more authentically Spanish than your gaze — Roberto Martínez
• Let's play at untangling the stars in our hair… — Juan Ceñal
• How naive of you to believe that mine isn't feigned — María Vera
• My heart turns red when you undress it — Leticia Torcal Hernández
• If you don't take too long, I'll wait for you, all my life — J. Canta
• Ignorance is the last thing to die — Rocío Cam
• The dog with your name howls — Ernesto Pérez Zúñiga
• He who tears down a bridge builds a precipice — Benjamin Prado
• Beneath the asphalt, the earth howls — Fernando Calvo
• If you make yourself, you'll have leftover pieces — Accidents Polipoètics
• It's not love if loving isn't enough. — Alberto Pérez Ruiz
• We are terrified of being burned, yet we are flames — Juan Antonio Bermúdez
• Remember to live. — Claudia Viu Balagueró
• Long live the one born without masters or futures that will hang him at the foot of a dream — Antonino Nieto
• I fear the best — Negrotesque
• I don't know if I'm right, but the truth is, I'm here — Rosendo
• Behind every escape lies the desire to leave — Esther Bendahan
• Tell me about the sea. Listen to how the anger fades away. — Fernando Renjifo
• With sun, with rain, with wind, with you — Iván García-Alcaide
• I'm loving you and you don't recognize it. — Asier Acebo
• Today the sky isn't blue, but it's still the sky. — Rafael Lamata Cotanda
• Let my point of view not forget the blindness that makes it possible — Pablo Messiez
• The more desire I swallow, the more loneliness I vomit — Nach
• We were born to understand each other — Carmen Mas Choclán
• What color are your dreams? — eslahoradeperderse
• If I don't get lost, I can't find myself — María Palfy Alonso-Alegre
• To reach the moon, you have to aim for the stars — Gema
• For me, any place is home if you're the one who opens the door. — Elvira Sastre
• I plan to grow old after I'm dead — Aaron Garcia
• I am deoxyribonucleic acid — Jorge J. Locane
• Follow in his footsteps, leave your own footprints — Tuga
• We need to add more sorrow to the fire — Chilo Rivero
• Sometimes the wildest thing is tenderness. — Maribel Tena García
• We need kisses to learn to measure distances — Carlos Salas Ruiz
• Only through your own steps will you come to know the world. — Susi Corrales
• No one can find his destiny!!! — Félix Valdivieso
• Together we can withstand any winter — LUIS AGUILAR
• Lo que s\'herieda ye\'l beak d\'un páxaru nel corazón — Raquel F. Menéndez
• If you walk far, walk accompanied — José Antonio Canelas Pastor
• Your eyes are the color of desire. — Ana Benítez Tirado
• I was born to live a life, but not to coincide with it — Franz Frichard
• People make me believe in people. — Ana Castillo Manzano
• Don't dream tomorrow what is happening today. — Félix López
• The street is like unpredictable verse — Maximiano Revilla Vega
• There's no pain that a thousand kisses can't last — Rosse
• You don't play with your heart, you love it. — Somorro
• Recognizing oneself in the taste of salt — Carlos Asensio Alonso
• Smile, you have Madrid at your feet. — Covix Sasu
• Sometimes, you have to stop searching to find — Campanilla82
• Shaking hands is like traveling without a ticket. — Alekxandra TazGar
• I want to be the reason for your dark circles — Lúa Mosquetera
• She danced on the minutes without settling on any of them. — Blanca Torres Martín-Moré
• How annoying any sound is when I miss your laughter — Irene X
• I told them I was crazy about her and they locked me up — Bye
• I live among the ruins of your chaos. — Cristina García-Sanfrechoso Moreta
• This war is fought by dancing. — Lluis Mosquera
• The presence of your footsteps is the beginning of my absence — Agus Calero
• I hear the bare feet of silence — José María Franco Pérez
• Dreams are reality without skin. — Debora Pol
• If you leave, I'll stay on this dead-end street — Robe Iniesta
• Screams can't swim. That's why we drown them. — Gloria Morales Jiménez
• I love thinking about you, but I prefer to experience you. — Araceli Guanes
• Surrendering to the heavens, man invents cathedrals — Cecilia Quílez
• Insults are like bullets. Only the ones that hit their target hurt. — Miguel Furones
• No hi ha res more atzarós than néixer. — Marti Sales
• Only the clouds know the shape of my head — Teresa Sebastian
• Non gogoa, han zangoa — JonZabaleta
• Then the light prevails, opening the morning with its keel. — Pilar Blanco Díaz
• Before these gray hairs, we were all fields — Laura Llera Arnanz
• What will my wasted time know if it wasn't able to find you? — Mónica Carrillo
• Verses of rain overflowing in the footprints of words. — David Bermejo
• On the compass, a magnet to deceive my destiny — Mr. Kilombo
• Summer emptied the streets and filled the neighborhoods — Eduardo Martínez
• How toxic is the hand that embraces you while putting a border around it — Luis Ramiro
• What you create, surrounds — Laurabatu
• How can this silence have so many decibels? — ZPU
• He looked up and smiled. — Raúl González Alameda
• Imagine how brave they were after surviving the hurricane — Marta Vázquez Capón
• The planet likes it better when you smile — Sandra Corrius
• Remember, traveler, beneath the asphalt there is still earth — Petricor
• My wealth is refusing your alms — Luis Ramiro
• Flight lies not in the feathers but in the lightness of hollow bones. — Eva Gallud
• You walk, but you know you don't have enough steps to spare — Amalia Iglesias
• Did you also dream that you were flying? — Andrés Medina
• There is another voice encouraging the outbreaks — Julia Piera
• I can't watch over the entire galaxy. — PEDRO DEL POZO
• If you're the wolf, I'm not Little Red Riding Hood, I want a different story. — Zaida Sánchez Terrer
• Remember: Not all rain forms puddles. — Angel.poem
• From your salty mouth will emerge another mouth. Everything about you will be a new beginning — Montserrat Soria Sánchez
• There's a scar across the sky — Ada Salas
• Breathe, the storm is coming. — Loreak
• What is can cease to be, but it never ceases to have been — Tania Flores Rodríguez
• Loneliness, two centimeters from your lips — Chiki Lora
• Do you know what you are? You are what you know. — Jesus Ge
• I walk through my life in this old Madrid — Ramoncín
• You don't know love until you kiss the ground — Gsús Bonilla
• Every morning my eyes are like escalators — Fernando Beltrán
• It's about filling the new moon, about being ahead of the countdown — Ángel Robledillo
• Oro esana da aspaldidanik. Oro esana da, baina ez nik. —Angel Erro
• Let's share our steps and see what happens. — lei_thingks
• And if we have to fall, let it be flying — Carlos Salem
• At night, there are lit windows that imagine your name. — Rodrigo Garrido Paniagua
• He walked to my left so he wouldn't stop brushing against my heart. — Chris Pueyo
• Honey, lock the door, the monsters are coming in — Iskander
• Poetry is a crossroads of words that takes you everywhere. — The Upside-Down Girl.
• The living are just the dead on vacation. — Floro Tomás
• Everything I could do if I did everything I can — Patricia Romero Acero
• While the future dreams you, you are happening — Marta del Río García
• There are no women without light nor houses without windows — Paula Bozalongo
• I'm becoming an atheist, money, I won't pray to you anymore — El Kanka
• To abduct Proserpina so that winter may exist — Juan Andrés García Román
• To find another yardstick, another certainty — Miguel Losada
• I don't know what we are, but I like that we are. — Óscar de la Muñoza Sáez
• Clichés fall apart when you live them. — Itziar Mínguez Arnáiz
• Our hearts will be broken from throwing stones at each other. — Andrea Aguirre
• She is a heart burning in an unlocked room. — María Sotomayor Caravaca
• And once again, the feeling that it is the footsteps that guide me. — Clara C Scribá
• Theories as maneuvers of distraction or superstition — Bunbury
• This is the pain that the sea is missing — Andrés Soler Torres
• Feel it, something remains. — Rafa Chevira
• He ran with the energy of a child playing hide-and-seek with himself — Luka Karnstein
• I think I learned to lose. In a burst of sincerity — Sidecars
• You're so sensible, and I'm so good at tying knots. — Pablo Álvarez Amaro
• Don't let him hug you if he won't let you spread your wings. — Delicate Edge
• It's not the wind, it's my lungs. My senses are also nature. — Juan Carlos Torres Ochoa. Now we must live until we burn out. — Diego Ojeda Sánchez
• And why don't we do it on the floor? — Ben Clark
• Walking is telling stories with your feet. — Yago Sagrado García
• Be free: nonconformist. — Matamua
• Silence surrounds the area. — Daniel Martínez Bauzá
• You keep looking at clocks that have never told the time — Federico Mayor Zaragoza
• You mess up my thoughts — Lapolacaescribe
• A dream come true, my life with two moms — Clara Garvayo Molina
• Swim across this strait — Guillermo Lago Núñez
• I thought I was alone, and I discovered that everyone who matters was there — Iván Ferreiro
• Madrid, Kilometer Zero of my journey — Ricardo Domínguez
• Madrid, you enchant me. — Paula Romero Armas
• What's someone like you doing at a crossroads like this? — Guevas
• I will cast the dice of my doubts into your dark night — Beatriz Quiros
• Dreaming gives you extra lives — Gonzalo Fernández Molinero
• I remember you surrounded by back roads — The Cave of the Madmen
• Love, when it's worthwhile, knows no bounds — Andrea Valbuena
• I name you my pronoun forever — María Eugenia Manzano Sanchez
• Madrid, I miss you — Neli Fdez
• Crooked trees cast longer shadows. — Antonio Maldonado Muñoz
• I verse you, you verse me, we verse — MDVigo
• Who can love with a broken throat? — Pablo Blanco
• Nobody comes away unscathed from a good song — Marwan
• It looked like a sea of ​​suns. A lake of flawless coins — Luka Karnstein
• As humans we tread on the shadows of giants — Semuret
• Just meeting you is already a source of joy for me — Antonio Hernández
• When you write, you stain yourself with yourself — Tomás Sánchez Santiago
• Instead of a bird in the hand, I prefer a great stampede in the head — Miguel Martínez
• Today I begin to live like someone who walks. — Sergio Álvarez Sánchez
• It is forbidden to mortgage your wings — José Antonio Pamies
• Madrid is the oil painting of the different tones of your skin — Manuel Delgado Meroño
• Find me even though I'm not lost — Kogneni L. Aguilar
• Better than kissing where you step, I prefer to fly where I kiss — Hawwa
• I love you because you're almost never here and I fall in love with empty chairs — Iván Onia Valero
• And you, who do you see when you close your eyes? — The boy with the checkered pattern
• Don't leave your fate to chance. — Alia Helguera
• Eyes that see, hearts that feel. — Nuria Lancha Úbeda
• In the valley of the years, whoever you are, whoever you are not, do not abandon us — Cesar Antonio Molina
• The only scream that silences me is poetry — Marta Arteaga
• Think about the last step or step on it. — Mar Total
• Love is being broken and being loved through the cracks. — Amaia Barrena
• I have written the story of a storm in a single drop — Rosa María Funes Moñux
• I'm warning you, I have wings and I won't hesitate to use them. — Alemrakss
• Your verses cut off circulation — Ms Q
• You're my needle in a haystack. I found it. Now you're asking me to let it go. — Alejo Stivel
• Without your footsteps the city is naked — Julio de Soto Ramos
• You turn around and the world seems less harsh — Miriam Martín Castro
• Since you decided to inhabit me, horizons climb the walls — Margarita Otero Álvarez
• Read me here, because I haven't written to you anywhere else. — Marta Monge Marín
• Now it's the ellipsis that demands my admiration — Kike Turrón
• Is this the end if neither crime nor shipwreck are enough to end the night? — Blanca Llum Vidal Carrasco
• They fear nothing because nothing is all they hope for. — Beatriz Zapico Naveira
• Don't be alarmed, it's just happiness — Grace Klimt
• What if we fought to become nobody? — Jesús Ruiz Mantilla
• Like the sea and the horizon, together but eternally far apart. — Vila
• You extend, you stretch, you expand, you condense — Teresa Sebastián
• I'm searching for my identity. It doesn't get any lower — Lourdes de Abajo
• You're so fire!!! And I... I'm so wind — Helena Agbr
• I feel nostalgia for all the lives I will never have lived — Magdalena Siffredi
• I met the ocean on Main Street — Teresa Ramos
• You thought that by reaching for the sky, you could escape — Kike Turrón
• I don't know if you hugged me or swallowed me whole — Xoel López
• First steps of a new stage — Owl
• I have learned from silence what words could never teach me — Mar Domínguez
• You have something inside, I've seen it shine, but you run and run… — Morgan
• If you leave, let it be for more tequila… If you stay, let it be for life — EmbajadorasMX
• Too much time without seeing you and too much time seeing you — Carlos Sadness
• Happiness exists, even on cloudy days — Aida FM
• There is no truth deeper than life — Raquel Lanseros
• Poetry is not my life, it's my way of escaping it. — Alba Alhambra Sánchez
• Sometimes poetry is written by the eyes. — Rafa Pérez Herrero
• I know I can if you tell me to — Bitoledo
• The breath of your smile burns the air — José Antonio Jaras Blázquez
• Upon reading the news, the Wi-Fi fainted from excitement — Mar Abad
• What a sound a man makes when he breaks down in solitude — Bunbury
• I usually die sixty times a minute — Rapsusklei
• With our feet on the ground we would never have set foot on the moon — Milano Dantés
• "I like brevity," she told me, "I will only love you for as long as life lasts." — Begoña Abad de la Parte
• Step on me slowly, I'm laughing — Rachel
• The feet write a path that the hand turns into history — Roberto Goya
• The city slips away through the crackle of the traffic lights — Laura García de Lucas
• In a place where the wind called his name — Ricardo de la Hoz
• You tickle my brain — Maite Moreno
• I have nothing to hold on to but the beauty of the world — Patricia Figuero Correa
• Catharsis is understanding something about someone that no one else would understand. — Holden Centeno
• You asked me for time and I broke my watch. — Sara
• Memory is the only place from which there is no possible exile. — Juan Laborda Barceló
• To get your life into my veins — Dani Martín
• Don't put off until tomorrow what you can do for me today — . G
• What if we are someone's "I wish"? — Anne Invierns
• Free love: I can fly and I stay. — Alicia Yagüe Martín
• Every step is a form of time — Glenda León
• I whisper into mailboxes so that all the letters will be love letters. — Javier Corcobado
• When you look for signs, pause at the scars — Juancho Marqués
• I apologize for the harm you caused me. — Constantino Bertolo
• I write because you can't live with your hands tied behind your back — Patricia Alonso
• Together we undo winters — Anna Lorente
• Like love, poetry enters through my eyes and drips through my hands — Violet La Velvet
• Something is broken if hatred unites so many. — Sara Blanco
• That city exists, but perhaps it's not here — Javier Bozalongo
• Everything is possible, even flying a kite without air. — Lara Quijada Segovia
• Africa is in your footsteps and also among the people of Madrid — María Ruiz García
• I don't want a single gram that isn't from your body — Rulo
• Ceci n'est pas un zèbre — Alejandro Pose Rosende
• Nobody has anything to say — Garlic
• You weren't just a little bit, you were forever — Sergioab77
• Green that I cross you in green — María José Villar Sánchez
• The thought: a cloud gets tangled in the head — Carlos Salamero Platas
• The tallest flowers grow from the mud — Xoel López
• One last one and we're off. — Ana Hache
• Saying the right thing always fell short — Jordi Doce
• Don't forget: this pack howls louder than yours — Alejandra Martínez de Miguel
• We are different verses of the same poem. — Jorge Ferradás González
• I'm going to throw my heart at you like a hand grenade — Belén Berlín
• It's not easy to find someone who can complete your songs. — Dany Faccio
• We are mere cardboard puppets in this magnificent setting. — Cono de Medici
• Getting lost in the curves of your streets — Papayaposits
• Nobody owns their last morning — Rapsusklei
• In the house of wine we find respite from time — Francisco Cumpian
• Aime très fort aujourd'hui si tu peux, n'attend pas à deux mains — L'Arlesienne
• Oblivion writes all its verses in water. — Álvaro Hernando Freile
• Only your mattress knows the weight of your dreams — Luis Felipe Comendador Sánchez
• It's never too late for spring — Marta Massó
• Unknown, overlapping states until I look — C. Tangana
• Breathe in, breathe. — Flanarmundo
• Stars belong to those who work for them — Juan Carlos Mestre
• Everything can start here. — Youssef El Hilali El Allouchi
• As you return, the swifts approach the land: it will rain. — Julio César Galán
• I don't want to photograph my life, I prefer to live it. — Roberto Arias Puerto
• Auf dem Weg zu den Sternen, bleiben my Schritte in der Stadt — Adriana
• Bathed in salt air, it floats in the memory of days — Quique González
• Look around before you judge. — Gavee
• May the streets never fall silent — Ana Rossetti
• With no more hurry than eternity — Rosa Wild
• I am able to recite all my forgotten memories — The Indelible Eve
• Reaching for the stars with your feet on the ground — Ipf
• As rare as Madrid covered in snow in August — Calle Abajo
• Where nothing remains, you will nail your destiny of salt — Consuelo Sánchez Naranjo
• Your path is yours, if you want I'll step aside — Kamikaze
• Sometimes reading is also risking your life. — Joaquín Calderón
• Music, what a magical invention. — Rosa María Herrada Alejano
• You only keep what you don't tie down — Jorge Drexler
• You're my favorite mistake — Lemur
• When you least expect it, the future turns green. — Saracmi
• Life is live — Prado Morales Moreno
• I'm breaking down just to see what you did to me inside — Paola Soto
• With you, bread and Cybele. — Isabel Aparici Turrado
• Terrible is the memory that binds us to the hills of childhood — Isel Rivero
• Wind. Under the tree, it's raining again. — Alfredo Miralles
• Long road, short steps — Sixto Arias Mariño
• The answer that vibrates in the empty hollow of your hand — Luis Luna
• If I turn into water, will you rain with me? — Bettie Pathway
• All the traffic lights are pointing towards you. — Alfrez
• And blind memory makes us nobody — María Novo
• I know that the fish rules the water — Sara Caviedes
• If you inspire me, I'll come back. If you hurt me, I'll fly away. — Javi García
• A flower stripped of its petals in the mud is still a flower. — Ana Isabel Muriel Cortés
• The sorrow that drowns in dissimulation — María González Llovet
• This too shall pass — María Sanz
• I'll trade poison for stained bills — Johnytoss
• Let life mess up your hair — JRA
• It wasn't easy living there during winter then — Luz Pichel
• I have a feeling in your heart. — Tindaro del Val Méndiz
• No ending is happy: if it's happy, it's not yet the end — Luisgé Martín
• Sometimes I talk to myself about you — Marta Oliva
• Living is a job that is always poorly paid in the end — Antonio Gómez Rufo
• The more love you give, the better you feel — Kase.O
• Listening is also a path — Irene Chapado Pinto
• There are zebras under the asphalt too — Nieves Vázquez Recio
• To live life to the fullest, not to let life pass you by. — Felipe González Andersen
• If I leave, know that I didn't save the furniture from your flames — Rayden
• Poets are philosophers of brief theories. — Belén Olavarría Muñoz
• You have the most beautiful flaws I've ever seen. — Track 13
• The way you came in, I thought you were leaving. — Elena Román
• Shall we bet a kiss? — Mónica Ortiz García
• Among the dust, butterflies — Edel
• Come straight ahead, life, I collect every wound — Marlango
• In the jungle of Madrid, the cat is king — Diana Cuéllar Sanz
• I like democracy because you seem absent — Javier Krahe
• Let us be free together. — Elisa Cañadillas
• Silence, I bite the vegetable part of the heart. — Juan F. Rivero
• Smile, it's free. — Andrés D. López
• Some promises founder the moment they are uttered — María Novo
• Sometimes oblivion creaks as if it were saying your name — Lorenzo Kraus
• Your blinking in the cold is an unmistakable sign of resilience. — Xavier Rossell
• I don't give a damn! — Fronty
• Life isn't lived, it's celebrated. — Loreto Sesma
• Do you hear it? What? The rain tap dancing — Carlos G. Munté
• A pigeon crosses the street at walking pace. — Susana Benet
• Madrid would be uglier if you didn't go through it. — L. Gamma
• Every day I go back to the city and I don't find anyone. — Coque Malla
• It smells like home, like coming back from vacation in September — Zahara
• I only have this one life to cross paths with you — Laura Nokten
• Read between steps — The Carri
• If the monster scares you, why do you feed it? — Christina Rosenvinge
• Even the weeping willows smile when they see you — Guillermo Martina López-Pelegrín
• Beware of the memory. — Etxailarena
• Date varnish on the pedigree — Langui
• May your dreams outweigh your hurts. — Dove
• Like kamikaze lovers, like hot-blooded gunmen — Quique González
• Intelligence is shown in knowing when to be silent — María Sáez
• The city grows within me and saves me in the night — Verónica Aranda
• You're a hurricane pretending to be wind. — UtopiaDiasRojos
• I look at you to see myself. When you dance and look at me, I feel like I'm making music. — Andrea Heb
• Ten, eleven, come back — Cantandosola
• My soul is crewed by the wind of your breath — Leiva
• Memories are like books. Only the ones that remain matter. — Fernando Marías
• Silence transforms dawn into water, into a waiting body — Marisol Huerta Niembro
• How heavy an empty heart is! — Josele the Goblin
• Everything changes with you — Blanca Alonso García
• I will open the doors of the world and let the air in — Inma Chacón
• Words are unnecessary when it comes to love — Misotrascosas
• I can swim on volcanic lava — Antonio Flores
• The struggle to capture with words the hidden brilliance of these days. — José María Gómez Valero
• Weave, spider, weave, so your children can't fall — Miren Iza
• When the birds visit me freely, I will be free too — Ángel Calle Collado
• Who laid the stones there that build your prison? — Carmen Di Bella García
• Time arrived late, it trusted its ticking clock — Rebeca Barrón
• You're so beautiful and I'm in the same bars — Rodolfo Serrano
• At this very moment, it was just me — Lydia Fernández Pereda
• ne dviguj zastorov, dragi da svetloba ne prodre do naju — Brane Mozetič
• Let your voice silence stares. — Ana Chinchi
• While you wait, Close glances, Distant lives, On the sidewalks — Juan Antonio Torrero González
• May life give you what you dream of — Adrián Durán Caballero
• Plan your life as if you were flying — AF. Holly
• Without poetry, one cannot fly — Inés Abalo Rodríguez
• It looks like the sidewalk was slashed with a box cutter — Langui
• Don't mow, mower. Let the grass grow. — Christina Rosenvinge
• A couple of lunatics lost in another world. — Vila
• When we return from our trip, the storm will be different. — Juan Ángel Asensio Carrasco
• She possessed poetry — Peru Saizprez
• I have too many parties, I don't have enough siestas — Beatriz Ausejo
• Trials of the being who lives lifted from the leap of breathing: trials — Ernesto Suárez
• As if by magic: You were the beloved calligraphy of Galicia. — Lupe Gomez
• You're a sweetheart to read at midnight — Libracos
• Dance with me step by step, my life, dance with me… — Efecto Me
• You take me to the ocean of your rose garden, to your timeless streets. — Marta Navarro
• I don't follow your steps, I walk with you — (∂ + m) ψ = 0
• No matter where you are, we'll see the same moon — Suzanne
• Nobody comes back unscathed — Lemotbulle
• Give me two verses when you greet me — Gema Terol
• Sometimes my autumn understands your rain — Segunhenrymiller
• Dancing is seeing the birds from within — Pablo Velado Pulido
• If they give way to you, give up your smile. — Santi Silvero
• The death of the last man will never be confirmed — Andrés París Muñoz
• Let the sound of our footsteps be an autumn waltz — Amanda Gordillo
• Let him who loves me, burning inside, never managing to burn me — Yolanda Menéndez
• I would kiss you goodnight until dawn. — Angelica Escalona Fernandez
• The clouds lick the sea. Blank thoughts on the water. — Rachid Lamarti
• I fell in love with a cat on this street — Maru
• What a way to lose all sense of decorum. What a way to lose all sense of decorum — Izal
• Beautiful is that age that goes unnoticed. — Francisco M. Ortega Palomares
• I'm not going to not try — Zarrino
• I promise to tell you stories every night — Monterrosa
• The sun is afraid of the dark, that's why it sleeps with the moon lit — Antonio Montoya
• Lightweight, we're sure, featherweights are better — Poetic Genome
• If life is a tango, let's dance together and we'll create a world. — Carmen Martín Fucho
• New anthems, new flags, same rust on old chains. — Rafa Olivares
• I am a lullaby but I am also a storm — Violeta Castaño Ruiz
• The echo of your footsteps is interrupted, gentle rain against the ground — Yolanda Ortiz
• I am that house I have never arrived at — Ernesto Pérez Zúñiga
• My heart never turns red — Sara Bellon Alonso
• How to move forward in harmony with the landscape — Miriam Reyes
• Most of my body is water, the rest is thirst. — Knife
• The earth is flat and has your measurements — Fran Barreno
• The aroma of an al dente verb and the taste of a crunchy adverb — Igor Paskual
• And overnight, the flags prevented me from seeing you anymore. — Pepe Pulido
• If you don't realize the value of the world, it's foolish — Kiko Veneno
• To love is to fit head, eyes, and gut into the same heart. — Losextremosdev
• Neither zucchini nor bell pepper can surpass the love I feel for you. — Rambi
• You always know when something is forever. — ElanVerse
• Chasing an enigma to the rhythm of the hours — Santiago Auserón
• Don't try to hide in corners, the walls keep getting longer — BellidoAle
• A storm is coming, don't take an umbrella — Iwes Mendieta
• I know my next scar will bear your name — Marwan
• Don't miss it: look up. — Lidia Rebel
• My love, I have nothing left of you, not even resentment — Fraskito
• Enveloped, light, and fleeting, the butterfly halts its destiny. — Isabel Morales Trillo
• We are two flames against the air, learning how to dance with each other. — Marcos Gallo
• You're so stormy, and I'm so into dancing in the rain. — Pabls Panda
• Let us worship the Mother Letter — Elena Rojas García
• Leave your luggage on the riverbank, so I can see you as you want to be seen — Vetusta Morla
• To take each step without thinking is to walk weightlessly. — Maite López Las Heras
• I can't stand myself without you — Son
• She blooms a heart Endangered and wild — Patricia Rezai
• Silence, breeze, and sanity give breath to my madness — Antonio Vega
• I am a cubist zebra — Santas
• Listening is the most revolutionary act. — Niño de Elche
• My blood boils, an infusion of me. — Debares
• I know it's you, but you don't know it's me yet — Gonza99
• Crossroads scattering stars at every step — Patricia Pérez.
• Where do I go now that you offer me the full map of your pulse? — Elizabeth Duval
• Even the tiniest spore can trigger spring — Cristina Pérez Carrasco
• I write so that poisoned water can be drunk — Chantal Maillard
• I'm on my way to find you. — Carlota Gómez
• Past perfect tense of the verb contigo — Mariu Díaz
• The silence between you will soon be replaced by an awakening — Supersubmarina
• There are eternal loves that last as long as a short winter — Joaquín Sabina
• Breathe in life, read poetry — Rosa Pazos Martín
• I don't want to spoil the ending, but everything's going to be alright — LaurisLau
• Enjoy the inconvenience. — Beapixels
• There are a thousand lives in the depths of your eyes. In which one will you let me love you? — G. Bravo
• I don't wash my clothes, I prepare a uniform for battle. — Salvador J. Tamayo
• What I haven't seen before — Laura Pugno
• Love was a bucket of cold water in which the head and feet swim. — Ahmad Yamani
• Naked on the asphalt, she smiles at her fears — Ricardo de la Hoz
• אין דבר העומד בפני הרצון — Melanie Asor
• Sometimes I think of you even when I'm dressed — Javier Krahe
• If there is peace beneath your feet… there is your home — Ana Córdoba del Pozo
• Before a blank sheet of paper, swearing allegiance to the flag — Gata Cattana
• Life pains me where others have a beating heart. — Tulia Guisado Muñoz
• I stain the earth with the last seed of hope. — Angelo Nestor
• Les teves passes et faran fly cap els teus somnis. — Tardiness
• My footprints still follow your shadow — Cristina Medina Hijon
• This is what I want: to live in the beginning — Jordi Doce
• Walk with your heart and your feet will follow — Montserrat Momblán Amador
• But who cares about the street if there's heaven? — Ale Oseguera
• Life is like a game, and whoever has the most fun wins. — Maria and Gaby
• Loud whispers that speak. Weak cries that fall silent. — Mrt
• When I grow up I want to explore the horizon — Arbarroso19
• I take one step, and another step, and another step, and I don't move forward. — Antoine Lamarck
• See you at the moon on the dot — Ana Iglesias Arnaiz
• A smile could tighten all the nuts and bolts in the universe. — Ouka Leele
• An hour with you doesn't last the same as an hour without you. — Justa Nogales Morgado
• All the cold is not enough to kill a hymn. — Sara Castelar Lorca
• Without meaning to, I think of you. And without meaning to, I love you. — A. Gallego
• Friday afternoon is afraid. — Bárbara Cáceres Chomalí
• Raindrops, dissolved in the earth, we embraced — Andrés Pascual
• There is no Madrid without Barrionalism! — Kike Babas
• Your voice has seven colors when you stay. — Joaquín Quiralte Castillo
• I have "I belong to no one" tattooed on my throat — Jorge Castro
• …and honeysuckle on the wounds of love. — F. Brives
• I've come back to say that I know what I don't need to know. — Flavia Company
• Shall we meet in your dreams, corner with my kisses? — Patricia Ramírez García
• Verse me, verse me a lot… — Arantxa Ortega
• The path has erased the footprints used — Amalia Iglesias
• Fear is the most comfortable chair you can offer someone who is tired — Alicia Es. Martínez Juan
• Love looks like a dog but it's a cat — Rafa Pons
• Despite the wall, the ivy — Alberto García-Teresa
• To clothe oneself in the nakedness of day and leave the night burdened with insomnia. — Anabel Pérez Pizarro
• I wish a vapor from heaven would overflow within me — Antonio Jiménez Paz
• Look to one side, look to the other… and look inside yourself. — In the Deepest Sea
• And what if, after all…it turns out the clues were the treasure? — Guille Galván
• There's always a crazy person for a daredevil. — Sofía Vila
• Walking is not enough to get away. — Martha Asunción Alonso
• Memory is made of thirty thousand flowers that neither sell nor rot — Pablo Blanco
• Time heals all wounds, even beauty — Ale Oseguera
• Who fred tanca estenalles under the exhausted face of the poor woman? — Lola Andres
• When in doubt, I prefer to be the widow — Grandma
• They say we were born of love, but what they don't talk about is the pain. — Stranger Freak
• The sky is very blue today, but don't tell anyone. — Miguel De Juan
• to stumble upon your name… — Antonio Pérez Castellanos
• Madrid, with your shores and my shipwrecks — Miri Miri
• I recognize no authority beyond my own body — Gata Cattana
• You are a flower in my minefield, a conjugal visit in my life sentence — Jotadosele
• Σε κάθε βήμα, λησιάζετε και απομακρύνεστε από εσάς και εμένα. —Miguel Arrabal
• The leaves are yellow and brown… And that is a triumph — Sergio Grao Palos
• Joy and tears, petals of the same flower — Chus Castro
• My life without you is more yours than mine — Alber
• Overcome your fears when your mind is green — Amelie Staschewski
• Cross the street!! Your dreams are on that sidewalk 🙂 — Carol4ale
• When patience runs out, the soul cries out in desolation — Nasta HB
• Asphalt sirens assault white ships with red lines — Javier de Arribas Cámara
• I sail freely through my thoughts. Don't bring me down from here — Chema Purón
• I am so much yours that I am hardly my own — El Serrano
• The universe was once the same age as you. — Vicente Monroy
• What a surefire contingency to cross and find yourself on the other side of the street. — Pedro Oliver
• Either you stop me in my tracks, or this is going to get out of hand. — Peter Panda
• When are you coming back here again? — Virginia Pérez Rodríguez
• We run because we chase dreams — Cocoliso Madrid
• If your eyes are a lighthouse, you've scanned the horizon just by looking — Amaral
• Maybe if I climb the hill I'll come down singing — Manuela Vellés
• The gray velvet of the road rippled beneath our feet — Victoria Zárate
• I write to you from the heavens, verses on the ground. — María Ángeles Martínez Garrido
• Don't insist on cutting down your trunk, you have some very beautiful branches — Aroa Urbano Rodríguez
• Your goodbye isn't a breakup, your goodbye isn't forgetting. — Paloma Camacho Arístegui
• Madrid loves you, but not as much as I do. — Cristina Bravo
• Now I move slowly and silently, with ground birds at my back — India Toctli
• Your smile is my smile — Varu
• Madrid at your feet and me in your arms. — María Gz.
• Sometimes the night, sometimes the moon, sometimes us, and sometimes life. — Rubén J. Triguero
• Your freedom makes me think big — Silvi Orion
• Today we're going to take life out dancing until it loses its shoes. — Pedro Andreu
• The wind whistling between your feet carries the stumble away from the path — Icarus Carrillo
• Loneliness arrived to make us dance — Abpliego
• The entire landscape belongs to the soul — Pilar Martín Gila
• From the flea market to the sky, free, safe, and from Madrid — Albatros
• Tiles that turn into piano keys as they pass by — Diegofresc
• Kissing: Seeking Encounters About Broken Souls — Ainoa Marley
• If you rescue me from the cold, I promise to leave winter behind forever. — Ana Vega
• Your footstep on the floor is a heavy well that passes, treads, rests, weighs — José Ricardo Majadas García
• You are with me every step of the way. — Carmen Piquer Díez
• It wasn't love at first sight, but we had a blast. — Oscarlifornia
• Silence has its gates open, the wind murmurs, murmurs through them — Alberto José Rivero Gil
• Who coins their steps in the dark? — Walter Cassara
• Congratulations, you're not looking at your phone. — Phx
• Your light blinded me and I began to see — Alexpa
• With his soul in his eyes and the question on his forehead — José Chacón
• I'm a mess, and that's the best I've got to offer. — Ron Israel
• A poem is the greenest shoot of silence. — Alberto Rivas Rodríguez
• Walk barefoot, with your feet and your head — Sol Aguirre
• I want to be free, not brave — Indi
• Words, messages and rhymes only speak, they speak in our languages. —Jorge Ruiz Lara
• The last monkey was the first person — Accidents Polipoètics
• On the screen of your phone, inside a pixel, there is a poem. — Mario Tascón
• To love you with life, not death. — Fiona Gallofré Suari
• They tell us it's raining — Álvaro Sobrino
• Walk with confidence, woman. — Adriana Martínez García
• Let me be your river and you my two banks. — Mr. Zé
• This country has a birth that never comes and a death that lingers too long. — Javier Gallego Crudo
• Right in the city center, the smell of freshly cut grass. — Jesús Munárriz
• I'm going to face my life head-on and see if it can bloom. — Uve
• Nothing is certain, but everything is possible. — Borja Picó Llorente
• Walk mindfully and enjoy the moment — Ana Rojo
• Empty of trash, fill with poetry — M. Carmen Barahona Yuste
• So many bodies to discover, the silence the dawn. — Fernando Renjifo
• If I had to start over, I would get lost again — The Night Cat
• Tread on me slowly, I have laughs — José Carlos Conesa Salguero
• If you're feeling heavy, give me a kiss and it'll pass — Alejandra Santos
• Sometimes you shout from the sky, wanting to shatter my peace — Dani Martín
• Лучшая погода — это свобода. — Любава Малшева
• I will cross this new threshold without fuel to return — Vetusta Morla
• My throat, my solid element, wrought from tar and cement — Fernando Vara del Rey
• The present is an eel — Jorge Dinares García
• This is where we agreed to meet. — Gema Cruz Catalán
• Sometimes, philosophy gives you food for thought — Miguel Furones
• Breathe in the silence of the light — Antonio Colinas
• No ending is a simulation. — Antonio Gómez
• Everything is possible if you pursue the impossible. — EmotionalSuicide
• A narrow sea separates two realities with the same perspective — Gloria Cano
• The light today has nothing to do with the light of those days — Mercedes Cebrián Coello
• We can still resist, the sun hasn't risen yet — León Benavente
• If you invite me, I'll go; if you need me, I'll fly — Jesús Patiño Rubio
• Every time you say 'the whole wide world', think of me. Signed, Manolito Gafotas — Elvira Lindo
• Your smile has been lost behind your untouchable mask — Beatriz Rodríguez
• In an acrobatic flight of recriminations, the chimeras land shattered — Estefanía Toro
• Before I die, I want heaven one hundred percent, by the way — C. Tangana
• Since you arrived, I name Sundays after you. — María Dorado Rodríguez
• The madness of the world builds you — Miguel Losada
• I wouldn't mind making you a routine — Irene Hurtado Vaquerizo
• Love the journey more than the ending — Jorge Drexler
• I step back to see when you approach. — Lina Troncone
• Our neighborhoods made us patriots in our childhood. — Luis Farnox
• Don't step on me, I carry souls — Carlos Utrilla Paniagua
• Crystal of a broken wind, in the infinity of perfection. — Carmen Colmenarejo
• Her name will be Lucha: it will be a girl — María Nieto
• She chose not to be poetry; seeing herself as imperfect, real, and free — María Quiroga
• Many fears can be contained in just a whisper — Violeta Castaño Ruiz
• You who no longer know, I who no longer hope. — F. Varez
• Writing is the only thing that heals when you don't know what the wound is. — Inevitable
• From all that is denied us, I build a foundation. I distill from my being — Ricardo Hernández Bravo
• Each one struggles against the gravity of their own stone — Carmen Amat
• Being immortal is somewhat a matter of attitude. — Mercedes Cebrián Coello
• There are absences that stay with you for a lifetime — María José Navarro Fernández
• Fear, two hands forming a single plea. — Hasier Larretxea
• When you arch your back, my neck turns ninety degrees with pleasure — Beatriz Rodríguez
• Only you and I know how to play us — Minuscolezze
• The republic is the street, the universe is the neighborhood — Santiago Auserón
• What will get me to the end are my steps, not the path — Fito Cabrales
• Disarm me with your laughter, not with weapons. Shoot me with kisses, not with bullets. — Saripower
• Experience is the last thing you lose. — Sofia of Africa
• I spit out the flower. I swallow the thorn. I am in control of my pain — María Vera
• To be, even to create a kind of stillness in the midst of the storm — Leonor Antón
• Enjoying the journey is better than the destination — Cecivo Demil
• Verses are alms for broken hearts — Lara Estrella Silva
• We are beehive and seed, wasp and fruit. — Guzmán García
• So at your feet and yet so high up — Lampi
• He gave her a flower with its last petal, and said: you decide — Carlos Gómez B.
• His fear of the tide never stopped him from leaving his mark. — Francisco Martiñán Fernández
• If I have to make a mistake, let it be with you. — M. Padilla
• The law of life…keep walking. — Toñi Magdalena
• Being aware of your movements is like coming to the surface — Óscar Aguado
• Everywhere I look I only see women fighting — Escandar Algeet
• No one shines better than you — Maria GT
• I am lost in the forest but I am the wolf — Elvira Lozano
• Europe is a tired old lady. — Salvador J. Tamayo
• Meeting you was not within my expectations — Antonio Hernández
• Sometimes leaving isn't running away; it's loving yourself. — José Circón
• You remain in the words I write and in those I don't — Màxim Huerta
• And in the puddles, a nostalgic reflection, empty clouds. — Elena María Martín Melero
• And I'll be there when you feel like there's nothing left, that there's no one left, that there's nothing left. — These are not ruins
• I propose a preemptive toast, just in case everything goes well — El Kanka
• …avitcepsrep ed nòitseuc se adiv al — Lusets
• To live is not to remain unscathed — Mon
• The flapping of a dying bird's wings strikes the earth. — Fernando Bravo Pablos
• Our names weigh like solitary boulders at midday. — Juan Luis Ramos
• Our silence echoes. There is no voice to silence it — Jules
• You won't find me in anyone, but you'll see me everywhere — Iago de la Campa Pose
• We will go through life without flowerpots, we will be other wildflowers — Gregorio Apesteguía
• He who lives in haste, wastes time. — Mr. Wolf
• Fried eggs resemble their owners — Sergio C. Fanjul
• How many Luxembourg Roses must we plant for them to bloom? — Jara López Viñas
• The soul, as a unit of measurement. — Claudia López Velasco
• They communicated with silences — Tuky
• I will look for you, in the ear of corn or in the sun that illuminates it — Andrés Pascual
• How beautiful Madrid is, dressed in rebellion! — Pablo Abad
• Destiny is written with the soles of your feet — Bubble Boy
• I'm going to make you happy. You'll suffer so much that you'll name sadness after me. — Antonio Gala
• I hope that one day you'll become a chance encounter as I walk down these streets — Judith Rico
• Loves come and go, like rumors — Eu Fletcher
• Attached to a helium balloon, cobblestones bearing your footprints flew by. — Sara Zapata
• The ugliest part of the flower is the stem; beauty feeds on flaws — Resident
• Twenty minutes of reasons under the roof where the cats live — The dwelling
• I don't know if I lived what I confessed — Jesús Fernández Úbeda
• And in the end, you really were something special. — Taraskus
• Dance is freedom having fun — Paula Castellote
• The freedom to owe nothing to anyone. Not even obedience — Javier Bozalongo
• The disheveled smile of going against the winds — Kutxi Romero
• Because we were all someone's secret at some point — Mónica Carrillo
• What will it be like, my God, to commit suicide in her lap? — Rodolfo Serrano
• I don't want an "us" if it's not with you — Patricia Hontanar
• That you appear unannounced and my excuses tremble in your language — Aldara Filgueiras
• There are still loves more lasting than this asphalt — Voltaire
• The storm is having to close your lips again to invoke life. — Carlos de la Cruz Iglesias
• Hold a party for every trench. — Ana Pérez Cañamares
• I want to inhabit you, to hide in your corners. — Francisco Arturo Calderón Alcalá
• Fortunately, time cures everything… even youth — Oscar Aguilar
• City, let me play with your steps. Madrid, let me cross bravely — Mario Suárez
• Today could be a Gran Vía — Cj
• I am a jumble of birds that didn't know how to get back home — María Sánchez
• Confused, unaware that wounds are the price of living — Pedro Guerra
• Dark trench coats will return — Bel Rodríguez
• Being a tightrope walker in the weary city — Untamed Wanderer
• I love you so much I've named my fruit shop after you — Pharaoh & The Sarcophagi
• I exchanged tea for coffee and wine, and the sad rebec for the sad flamenco — Muhsin Al-Ramli
• Love is a world of smells — Enrique Cabezón
• You told me you were leaving, but you've been in my house your whole life. — Coque Malla
• Between your body and mine there is only room for one verse — Alexandra Arenaza López de Alda
• Madrid dresses up in people; there's no more beautiful mess. — Crisma
• Birds don't call their nest home, they call the world home. — Víctor Baeza Rueda
• Whenever I see a blank space, I fill it with you. — shemavallejo
• The wind revives on the horizon where the path opens up to be walked — Laura Gómez-Palma
• The best idea is always to keep thinking — Mr. Zeta
• I'm afraid the future will come too late — Musketeer
• Will you stay and make mistakes with me? — addictedtovinegar
• You're the most beautiful disaster in my life — Pul21
• We are the only flock where everyone is out for themselves. — Tirso Priscilo Vallecillos
• Everything still seems beautiful to me when I see my mother laugh. — Sraholi
• It is the audacity to cross to the other side that is the virtue that brings us closer and predisposes us — Txetxu González
• Walk towards the change you long for in your monotonous routine — Almoiane
• The uncertainty of knowing exactly where you're going to end up — Juan Betancourt
• Stop dwelling on your problem. You'll see it more clearly when it's stopped — Miguel Furones
• Man is an irrational being who spends his whole life hiding it — Aaron Garcia
• Dream. The mouth. With a plural of mouths awakening. — Esther Peñas Domingo
• Sated with silence, they embrace the verses filled with illusion and hope — Dory Lansorena
• I also thought it was different — Enrique Cabezón
• Cut off from the natural world, everything in Civilization is now a jungle. — Maribel Andrés Llamero
• They say the blues is a state of mind — Miguel Ríos
• It's not worth wandering aimlessly, it's better to walk to keep growing — La Mari
• I look at the ground and I take back this silly habit of not having you by my side — Luis Miguel Madrid
• I have cut these flowers to leave them where there are people badly buried — Victor Manuel
• Life can flourish in sadness, a winter fruit. Not in fear. — Sara Torres
• each word a white ash a hole an awl — Olga Muñoz Carrasco
• Score of footprints, song of steps — Arturo Andreu Villalba
• For a detective of himself, death is knowing everything about the man he is following. — Rafael Camarasa Bravo
• Plenty to do in this hustle and bustle; all that's missing are the coincidences. — Abdul Hadi Sadoun
• To perceive in the streets the full weight that words carry — Verónica Aranda
• Let life seem like it — Màxim Huerta
• This is the exact edge of things: here words change state. — Rafael Otegui
• Rain dictates the beginning and end of the storm — Marta Arteaga
• You won't find the answer down here. — Marta Abad Molina
• Cross carefully and enjoy the other side. — Paloma Blanco García
• Everything is decided in the last hundred meters — Ariel Rot
• Ego is the epidemic of our bohemian society — Carmen Boza
• In our consciences, a thin line divides the world — Juanito Makandé
• We who dwell in the heart of the deserts — Javier Gallego Crudo
• Lives poorly lived, or perhaps debts from lives already lived? — Daniel Velázquez
• Even stars show their irrelevance in broad daylight — Pablo Morante
• You are my favorite corner of Madrid — Rubén Pozo
• What do we do with the love we have left over, if in the end we turn it into ego? — María Carvajal
• I wanted to be a Don Quixote of dreams, but I remained stuck on the threshold of a complaint. — Nuria Gómez de la Cal
• To walk like this suddenly: a man at last, of blood and emptiness. — Enrique Falcón
• To live in circles, the word meaning is once again necessary — Paula Bozalongo
• We're the generation that crosses red lights without looking, but is afraid to fall in love — Irene X
• We reached a point where we were lost in the search — Carlos Bueno Vera
• The children arrived alone on a boat and forgot why they came — Lalo Barrubia
• The echo preserves sound waves of lost voices among wisps of fog — Martín Baroja
• Sometimes I let myself go, and I'm happy. — Monfra
• There's still so much to feel — MSG
• A final point is a horizon in profile. — Juanlumora
• Thirty seconds ago I was a bird. — Noah Zaknelyt
• The pencil is the rope that ties this pain. And it holds it — Lourdes de Abajo
• May my paths cross with yours — Carmen O'Donnell
• If you have to sleep on this asphalt, I want to be your roof. — Pilar Cano Quevedo
• Not a poem, words expand your circle of friends — Yolanda Castaño
• Neither very happy nor very sad, simply tired. — Diego Álvarez Miguel
• We've gained so much by losing everything. — Dani Aguilera
• Ruffle my tangle, don't keep me in line — Susana Cabrera Rebato
• May memories be wings, never chains — Sara Bueno
• Come, O you, throbbing vine of destruction and fullness, O life. — Luis Alberto de Cuenca
• Faced with thousands of possible caroms, there's only one shot — Alex Ayala
• The gift of hands: kneading the flour and shaping all the loaves of bread — Ernesto Suárez
• Will what you love ever become unattainable, invisible to any form of fear? — Esteban Beltrán Verdes
• Seeing you laugh, talking to you, and my soul trembling like the restless crystal of fountains — Carlos Bardem
• Horrors that freeze the certainties of the bond between vain dreams and fascination — Alejandro Tarantino
• I want to live, I want to shout, I want to feel the universe above me — Amaral
• Often the most beautiful songs are about those who least deserve it — Zahara
• It is not the flame that sees the light, it is the ash. — Abel Guisado Santos
• There is no school other than that of example — Federico Mayor Zaragoza
• Gazelles remain beautiful despite the constant threat of lions — Oscar Espirita
• Here everyone thinks they're God, but even God isn't all that great — Charlie HB
• The fields will bloom, do not fear pain: our race was conceived in beauty — José Nieto
• Madness is the maze I will build for you 'til you lose my trace — Marlango
• War loses all its battles when enemies listen to each other — Residente
• We can't cross. What color should the traffic light be for us to do so? Blue — Laura Fraile Vicente
• For those who have learned the ways of those in power, opportunities to use their voice abound — Benito del Pliego
• As long as there's a butterfly in your stomach, you have to defend it — Gsús Bonilla
• To the rhythm of your steps I imagine my own — Clara Sánchez García
• The ground we walk on is the back of our grandparents — Lou Wild Morrison
• When I think I don't exist, my emptiness appears and smiles at me, full of myself. — Sister Kampana
• Before the heart of the singing cicada, I saw the heart of the trees opening. — Fernando M. Lavandera
• Your diet isn't right: you're accumulating too many unfinished books. — Vicente Velasco Montoya
• Walk far even if the journey is short — José Luis Blanco Rubio
• Knowing that everything that glitters is an illusion. And yet, not being able to stop looking. — Isabel Bono
• Sidewalks and doorways where we built the city, and the city remembers — Fernando Beltrán
• I'm leaving thinking I'll come back, and fall back into your arms like a cat — Sule B
• Textured paint is the cellulite of architecture. — Pepe Ramos
• Like the ticking of a clock, the tapping of your bare feet could be heard — Álvaro Gutiérrez Pizarro
• Every time I manage to sort out my past, life brings me more. — Patricia Andrada
• To understand stillness, to harvest falampos. To be corn in the land of orchids. — Rafael Saravia
• I am averse to lack of space — Monkey System
• The distance between you and me is just one letter. — Andrés González Montero
• Olive garden, sex, riverbank, cigarettes, children, social democracy, lupin beans — Alejandro Pérez-Paredes
• Living is a way of defeating the clocks — José Manuel Jiménez Juidías
• If we die we can say it was fun — Natos & Waor
• I devour the forbidden apple, delighted to succumb to temptation — Natos & Waor
• The most cowardly excuse is blaming fate — Ismael Serrano
• I've dedicated meaningless lines to you, lines that without periods are abysses; you could peer into them — Santi Balmes
• The night faced the month of May head-on, and the city put its sky on full display. — María Ángeles Maeso Arribas
• My only flag is an open door — Elvira Sastre
• I fled alone, frightened, leaving the family teacups half-finished — Muhsin Al-Ramli
• Don't be influenced by bad influencers — Carles Oviedo
• I'm not above or below anyone: hugs are given between equals — Victoria Ash
• People's eyes are probably still there. Roughly one pair per nose — Josele Santiago
• A blind man stumbles upon me. I am that blind man when I write with your eyes. — Pablo Javier Pérez López
• I'd devour you with verses — Rayden
• You possessed. He possessed. You all possessed. I possessed poetry. — Carlos Torrero
• Finding a rock in the sky is for the patient, the mad, or the insomniac. They spin. — Carlos Bruno Castaneda
• Three bell tolls and we'll turn around to deny another rooftopless horizon — Carlos Luna
• Open your eyes wide and notice the details. Awaken my senses, merge with the air — La Mari
• I hug him like a man and he kisses me like a girl. That's perfect. — Ana Elena Pena
• Like a child who gets lost in a shopping mall and comes back dressed as a superhero — Óscar Aguado
• I, the sea, lost in thought, vertical, exposed, before you, within you, with you. — Alfredo Piquer
• I want you to know that I want us to be — Leticia Domínguez
• The greatest wars take place within us — Juanito Makandé
• My head is a piece of land without a flag: anyone can live there, nothing governs it — Juancho Marqués
• Edges and vertical lines trace the geometry of eviction. — Ignacio Vleming
• There are days when life makes you feel it's worth saying what you were going to say — Carlos Bueno-León
• Perhaps the secret of life simply lies in having a place to return to — Mario Vaillo de Mingo
• When we walk upside down, that's when we begin to live again. — Dionisio Cañas
• The forest is the primordial initiatory knot, the home of lost men. — Anthony of Egypt
• My throat is a slippery grotto of accents. The musical form for healing. — Lola Nieto
• Today we are older than ever, you think; but you will never be as young as you are today. — Esther Garboni
• You'll hesitate: What reason is there to touch her freckles? She'll think: If I cry, I'll say — Alberto Guirao
• He who forgets abandons, kills, buries memory. That is why I never forget — Manuel Rico
• You can't mend a spider's web with your hands. There are no fingers that delicate enough. — Inma Chacón
• Politics is on sale — Diego Doncel
• All that remains of you is a dress of drifting waters, all that remains of you is your name that I do not speak — Alejandro Tarantino
• I am origin and descent, I am light, shadow and heritage, I am woman, I am resilience — Yamidich
• In memory of the real zebras, the ones that galloped through Madrid in the Miocene — Ame Duv Poetry
• Being born was an oblique thing. It's not the forest that burns, but the inside of each tree. — Esther Ramón
• Little kids watch TV and want to be like that; they're learning to kill before they learn to live — Morodo
• Where the distance between the earth and our hands was the measure of all things — Marifé Santiago
• The voice that steers this ship sails without waves. — Axé
• For you, who are a body sustained in a flat soul, the Sun rises, the Sun shines, the Sun rises — Evachin
• Love is arriving at the right moment and being the size of the other person's empty space. — Sandra Ortega Larrumbide
• Alone, immersed in the noise of the city, I hear the silence of life confronting itself — Paula Izquierdo
• I'll wait for you on the shore of our eternal dream — Gmm81
• Our sandcastles are safe: the sea of ​​doubt has dried up — Nerea Delgado
• And you, which of all your scars do you write about? — Esher Ampuero Gordo
• That the road continued long, and well you understand that the city is home. — Joaquim Moral Fernàndez-Juncosa
• Sometimes it seemed we could satisfy conflicting desires. — Mariano Peyrou
• Give wings to a thought and you'll take flight. — Alba Gaia
• In this beautiful place you kidnapped my sadness, girl on the bicycle — Juan Merallo Grande
• I'll count to three, and if we haven't stopped by then, nothing will stop us. 1, 2 — León Benavente
• Eternal seconds and fleeting hours by your side — TFR
• I give you the right of way. I give you the weight. I give you the floor. I give you the sediment. And I give you the pulse — María Eloy-García
• Human beings must die: they have not learned to link the end with the beginning. — Jesús Ruiz Mantilla
• Anything not fought for is already lost — Viera3
• I spend my life knocking down wide-open doors — Inma Luna
• The sea of ​​illusions awaits, the grains of sand are running out, jump in now — Imperfect Poet
• Let's unplug to reconnect :)! — LuaraMB
• Each person makes the same streets different — Campe
• Suitcases lost in Atocha, kisses lost in La Latina, and steps adrift… — Chus Téllez
• How can the things that bind us together be broken? — Oscar Espirita
• I wish the first time for anything would never end. — Alvarudo
• Don't rush through life; enjoy everything slowly — Valkyrie
• Thinking of you is like borrowing a melody — FlorKa
• Zure taupadak gure ingurunea zabaltzen du — Lilith and you
• I spent all my time searching online and ended up on yours — Atomilab
• Walking makes us strong, thinking makes us free, laughing makes us happy — Cassiopeia
• If poets, the unsellable ones, didn't exist, who would speak of orphanhood? — Cristian Esteban Martín
• I will be a white listener, the shadow following the living footsteps of my death — David Trashumante
• No. No ho vulgueu tot, that the tot is venint. Tea as much pressure as yours. — Mireia Calafell Obiol
• If we're crossing paths, it can't be a coincidence — Sara Rubio Garrido
• I need one more kiss and one more goodbye — Antonio Remache
• There is no more beautiful certainty than knowing that there is still time. — Nach
• To love you as only you taught me to love; beyond my means. — Elena Grausen
• I say Spain, and how good that word sounds. I don't hurl it at anyone, at anything — Víctor Manuel
• Like a domestic mantra, I repeat: the world is a hemorrhage. You and I are a clot. — Gema Fernández Martínez
• Keep the kiss, burn the verse, shed the weight and fly — Loreto Sesma
• The steps they dictated to us were never our own — Javierlópex
• What good is having so many birds in your head if none of them can fly? — Lena Carrilero
• Silence like a nocturnal unicorn dying in the oval of nothingness. — Alberto Muñoz García
• Leave all questions unanswered and pay attention only to what resonates — Martín López-Vega
• If you look at the sky you are a shepherd of clouds — Teresa Garrido González
• Every 12 hours the river is the estuary, every 12 hours the sea is the sea. Every 12 hours. — Elpirulí
• The only way to fly is not to fear the heights — Bella
• Everything in this spectacular plan, an old superstar has grown tired of waiting — Fangoria
• Let us learn from rust that feat of metal escaping form. — Almudena Vega
• I'll be late. I graduated just in time, in the wrong year. — Ana María Torres Bravo
• The ephemeral ornaments lay a trap. Beauty distracts. —Macamen Alonso.
• Tell me what I can't do and I'll do it thanks to you. — Miguel CM.
• They shouldn't find borders, and neither should I create them — Elnaveiras
• I came to you, I was searching for a dream and I got lost in the bars and streets of Madrid. — Pascual Cantero
• You are afraid of me, of your own insignificance, of yourself, but it is me you are cutting down — Julia Navas Moreno
• The world doesn't transform the word itself, but it does transform the way we engage with the word. — Óscar Ayala
• She turns crimson, I don't know if it's Buenos Aires or Madrid — Fito Páez
• A forest has grown inside me — Nuria Ruiz de Viñaspre
• Luck is not chance, but a collection of ideas arranged in rhythm — María Cabañas
• I lost my dreams in your streets. They'll remain there, feeding the sparrows. — Manonsi
• The air is so still that looking at the ruins is like gazing at a postcard — Nerea Pallarés
• There is a head without a mouth connected to a heart that we step on every day, every life — María Jesús Silva García
• Your feet, systole and diastole, between the vertebrae of the strawberry tree's heart. — Estelle Talavera Baudet
• You are a white memory. Nothing weighs in my hands, and yet I can hold you — Victoria Zárate
• Was there already dew on the flowers on the first morning of the world? — Rodrigo Sancho Ferrer
• These empty lands for no one. So much splendor for no one. So much light for no one — Elsa López
• I am a woman of color, and I will not allow anyone to turn me gray. — Arantxa Oteo
• Identity is the ideogram where family memories and personal decisions merge — Michelle Roche
• No one is as popular a candidate for grievance as a victim — Michelle Roche
• Many are asleep, consummating, consuming, dying while believing they are living — Daniel Velázquez
• I can dream that my sky is planted with coral reefs — Antonio Flores
• Without utopia, life would be a rehearsal for death — Joan Manuel Serrat
• I remember what my grandfather told me that morning: you can lose your sight, but never your gaze — David La MODA
• The light within you is fulfilled, it never ends. — Juan Manuel Rodríguez Tobal
• When they try to drown me, I'll be a fish… when they put up barriers, I'll fly — El Chojín
• Like teenagers stuffing dumpsters, we need something to explode — Nerea Pallarés
• It's ironic to call them streets when what we did here filled my life with noise. — Ikix
• Madrid, where cats drink in the nights and sleep in the sun — Pablo Quirós de Andrés
• I destroyed a field of daisies because they knew more about love than I did. — Jorge M. Molinero
• Punishment has a note that doesn't sound, and the heart holds it — Fraskito
• She was looking for a body to escape the cold, I was looking for a body to escape my own — Sharif
• I wish gold were worth half the value of your time. — Álvaro Extraviz Menjíbar
• Sadness is vulgar if it is not immense, and it often hides a poisonous pleasure — María Martínez Bautista
• Growing old should be like October: a tender dissolving of prominences and hollows — Luis Aguilar
• We learned to hunt, but never to receive the arrow in our belly — Sergio Espinosa
• A Strauss lied is playing. It looks like it's going to rain. Madrid has fallen silent. — Lara López
• Time speaks slowly, but it is very easy to understand. — 539.paper.st
• There is nothing more beautiful than what I have never had, nothing more beloved than what I have lost. — Joan Manuel Serrat
• I enjoy the dream I've had the courage to imagine — Ariadna G. García
• Perhaps what saves us are the rare moments when nothing happens. — Lola Mascarell
• Even in the voracious heat of each suffocation, I shed mountain shadows — Javier Campelo Bermejo
• I didn't come here to make friends, but you know you can always count on me. — Loquillo
• If they ask, tell them that Madrid healed scars that time couldn't mend — Santy Pérez
• That's how you survive, taller than anyone else in your suffocation, reaching for the sky with your tongue. — Laura Sam
• We met in the blink of an eye, just a couple of times. — Begoni
• There was a Golden Age of humanity: it was before humanity discovered gold — Rafael Lechowski
• The universe in flames, the rain in the shoes — Leiva
• There's always a time to die again — Pablo Morante
• No one is a prophet in their own land until they are buried beneath it — David González
• The pink dawn plays at drawing the mark of invisible fingers that have been diving into your dress since yesterday — Fanny Rubio
• Don't practice irony if you're tempted to clarify it — Rodrigo Cortés
• I forgot your house, but I never forget the road that leads to it. — Ahmad Yamani
• I imprint atoms of my feet on the ground of this city, and it watches over my steps. — Ángel Pérez Gómez
• Outside is the city in a dizzying rush of faces, so alien to you, so foreign to us — Pablo Cerezal
• Only when you touch my skin I realize that it's really thin. — Oscar Brochado Kith
• I hope the whole planet explodes into confetti tonight. I want to dance a slow dance with you tonight — Luis Eduardo Aute
• When I held the universe in my hands, I longed for a speck of dust — Álex Prada
• Life is a prison with open doors — Andrés Calamaro
• They live above our passivity — Garlic
• An animal in the wild is much smarter. — Bowl Tang Clan
• But I wasn't made with a fire in my womb to be smothered. — Rupi Kaur
• City and non-city, universe of transit, where travelers translated the world — Verónica Aranda
• There is a return to the womb of my most beloved city, from which my soul and I play with time, weaving worlds — Marifé Santiago
• Poets and death are alike in that they restore equality — María Antonia Ortega
• I wanted to put things in their place, but things spoke and confused me. — Eduardo Rezzano
• Let us not forget that beneath the city the earth beats strongly — Mar Valdecantos
• Where I'm going there's no room for sleeping hearts, for sick loneliness — Chema Lagaron
• Replace borders with pedestrian crossings and make life the priority. — Alberto Prieto Román
• He arrived, he defended, he lived, and he stayed in Madrid forever. — Colina
• I was shadow or zebra and I fell beneath this somber geometry of men: yes, tread on me — Héctor Arnau Salvador
• If our mind is in the jungle city, let's hunt down a bunch of prodigious zebras — Yolanda Castaño
• I asked the four winds, "What is the great truth?" And I only found more questions. — Alejo Stivel
• I hope that sadness has the same memory as fish — Laura Guerra Rey
• It's the museums that should be queuing up to see us. — Paloma Cubeiro
• I, in uncertainty, living as if it were forever — Anunciada Fernández de Córdova
• Everything I am I owe to every crack in my mother's hands. — Pablo Piñeiro
• It's the black cat that seeks its fortune by crossing paths with you. — Sara Cpg
• In the child's hand / the plastic airplane and in this poem / its runway — Javier Das
• And you, meanwhile, assuming, searching, disowning your time — Rosendo
• So writing becomes an act of resistance against everything. In a body act — Ismael Ramos
• Halfway between hell and heaven, I get off at Atocha, I stay in Madrid — Joaquín Sabina
• The problem now is that the cage is inside the bird. — David Eloy Rodríguez
• Your hunger and thirst roar, and no justice will silence their cries — Consuelo Sánchez Naranjo
• Cradle of natural gray, equidistant from every place, it eats fools and vomits wolves — José Fernando Viera Pérez
• The good thing about silence is that it doesn't lie; the bad thing about words is that sometimes they tell the truth. — Sharif
• Its wide avenues serve as a refuge for your heart. They will never know that I follow the trail of your love — Jaime Urrutia
• It is not chance that casts darkness into the brightness of the suburb: it is numbers — Manuel Rico
• Let's raise our voices loud and clear: if Madrid ignites, Madrid will not be sold. — Nacho Vegas
• How can I know where I come from if my footprints are buried under the new asphalt? — Pedro César Alcubilla Verde
• Uncertainty lives in the gut; you can feed it with fear or daring — Inma Luna
• There is no nature less wild than this paved garden. — Ignacio Vleming
• And with him he learned that one is never too old to remain a child — His
• We're taught that peace is elegant, but we learn that there are banknotes that can make a gun fire by itself — David La MODA
• A raindrop doesn't distinguish the color of skin it slides down — Luis Miguel Sánchez
• Someday is not a day of the week — Sol Aguirre
• Don't tell me that so much light isn't tempting — Ben Clark