segunda-feira, 27 de abril de 2009

The wind and the draft.



The wind have whispered,
But im still seeing it's not me.
Not the one who's seeked.
Neither even part of wishes.
Its all pain.
And im a comforting being,
Spreading tears of my broken dream.
So i hope theres a short end coming
To erase this draft of something
I never was.

1 comentário:

Bruno disse...

Gosto do poema! =) **