domingo, 29 de setembro de 2013


Dreams are clouds
of an empty sky
which fills and kills emotions
with and in my starry 
and dark
blue eyes.

And all I see is misunderstood...
all I love runs from me.

How can I be happy
if there's nothing to be?
If all I see 
is sadness, oldness
and oddness - from me
to the world?

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