Trying to be an artist, but I'm better at being a thug. Tentando ser artista, mas o destino é ser vândalo.
quarta-feira, 19 de outubro de 2011
hope Many loves in my memory. But none has hope. Vivid memories of loves. I feel lonely for being so conceded. At least lived, some complicated. But were also left. Left behind by a constant love. Lived every moment. But one day will become a keepsake. Prevented by a child. Leave the streets crying. I found two figures. Gandaiamos dawn. Loved the maid. This morning dawned. And the other love appeared. I traded my freedom. By marriage, swore fidelity. Almost lose happiness. I found another love for the city. A love with hope. That smacked of revenge. Sought revenge for happiness. But it was left out infidelity. I'm not so old as well. But I have lived so many loves. True love, you never forget. Survive without it.
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