segunda-feira, 10 de setembro de 2012

WHAT AM

WHAT AM

Even when I see the same path
Where my love was present,
My soul always actually feels
How much is assumed and does not reveal,
As much as I could and not extend
Altogether may more often when
Landing in the past, improvident,
The dream turns and do not understand,
My world in a different tone in mere chaos
The days are always rude, evil,
The ships dock and looking nothing come.
On the trail of dreams just follow,
And go back in an instant the old powder
And I know I'm nobody actually...

MARCOS LOURES

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