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Escrita&Terapia

A poesia como forma de grito. O grito como forma de palavra. A palavra ela mesma, rabiscada.

Timeless

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I’d rather spend the eternity

Walking by the bay

With my bare feet in the sun

I’d rather wake up tomorrow in the same place

Even if the sky falls upon us

Than accept that we’re no longer

Capable of touching each other anymore

I’m afraid, I fear

I fear that one day only me, only I will remain

One day,

This city will wake up again

Cheering and singing

Guitars and beer everywhere

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Anywhere, people around the corners

And, one day

The angels

Whom I may have tried to find

Will lead me to the road

Will sing me the anthem

Will take me away

Up up in the clouds

Beyond the sky of pain

And you know,

I will always miss that sight

That beautiful, delusional sight

Up up in Bray’s head

Only that sight

Could ever

Bring me down again

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Escrita&Terapia
Escrita&Terapia

Published in Escrita&Terapia

A poesia como forma de grito. O grito como forma de palavra. A palavra ela mesma, rabiscada.