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Friday, September 28, 2012

MY DREAM



MY DREAM

A boat drifting continues below
Do as I could imagine,
Without even perhaps where anchor
Only the sinking, bitter, comes.
The dream that he had tried to cultivate
Only your smile of disdain,
The world really has nothing
Not even find my place.
Of the many illusions have nothing left,
The fury drawing the direst
Picture a life without meaning.
And when I lose another step,
Meeting this void in dire tone,
My dream in some corner, asleep ...


MARCOS LOURES

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