quinta-feira, 18 de agosto de 2022

In My Madness

I keep looking at the days ...

How will it be tomorrow?

The days are similar ...

Almost equal in their sadness ...

Similar in their tears and worries ...

I don't even know what I would want ...

Loves have died like rivers that have dried up ...


Dreams flew  awaylike frightened birds ...


I try and I can't ...

Maybe it was better

Put on the old fantasy

And make a new carnival ...

Or still sleep

And never wake up ...

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Ah! Isso Pra Mim É Tira-Gosto...

Ficar alguns dias sem comer? Achar que isso é vida e apenas sobreviver? Querer falar e ter que ficar calado? Ser inocente e ter que se passa...