A GREAT LOVE
Tilling with sweat each poem,
Trying a crop that does not come,
There is so much to imagine a course well
And just another deception finally commit.
And when I dive into the void,
The unfortunate luck should not
Knowing that no one will come to the end,
My old heart, the pains - the ghetto.
Could the nights so cold
Just find in the early morning
The shadow of who both wished.
My world was lost and without direction,
With every mistake, more doubt,
That-beyond-a great love; find...
MARCOS LOURES
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