FARCES OF THE PAST
No longer would fit what still trace
The verse will not know how much,
The fight another step loses the password
And certainly clumsy shapes deadlock
Sail against everything and not spend more
Or even I without judgment come
That retains much of fantasy
My world in a terrible denouement.
Forget every farce of a past
Surely sometime drawn
And I know that my desire slays me.
Love is drawing each handout
The verse does not bring freedom
Life is hard in retaining grid.
MARCOS LOURES
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