domingo, 11 de maio de 2014

-

And who would get what I feel?
This urge of being away, and at the same time this disappoint at my self for being in fact so far away from everything that I could cherish.
I could, but I don't. Or do I?
Here from the corner, from the deepest of my feelings and inner soul. Here where I claim to be free to do whatever, to not feel pressured to be attached to things or livings to whom I should (should I?) be attached. But yet I feel so lonely. I feel so lost.
Oh, Lord, why am I feeling such despair, such urge to run away or run back in time to start all over, to do all different. Why?
If only I could change who I am...

Nenhum comentário:

-

Não repares se a forma é apurada
Ou se a métrica foi talvez torcida
Olhe somente a vida dos meus versos
Que a vida do meu verso - é a minha vida.

Vinicius de Moraes