sexta-feira, 13 de março de 2015

Next, next, next.

Heavy eyes,
Wanting to shout.
My body's cold,
Surrounded by darkness.
Death
Of that time,
Beautiful and sincere,
Creative and constructive,
Peaceful.

Feeling blue 
as the deep deep sky

Every home I leave behind.
It's the sacrifice to find the next one.
Next
Next
Next
Constantly moving
Forwards...
Sometimes backwards.

I'd like to take them with me
The wonderful bodies
The dancing trees
The warm fire
But mainly the genuine laughter

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