We all want
What we cannot have,
every man,
every woman.
We always stay
To be desired
The impossible.
Nevertheless
What choice do we have?
If not that of dreaming
That one day,
with our hope,
our wishes
will they finally be real?
Categoria: Poetry
-
By now I can speak well
Only with myself.
I can understand myself
At 100%.
I see others
They have several limitations.
And there is who
stayed behind.
And I, I don’t want to stay behind.
I also get tired of explaining to everyone
How am I made.
Just as I get tired
To explain that they all have to be
Themselves.
Who most live confined to their beliefs
And worse they will be.
I’m glad to be free,
now I only confide in myself,
and that’s the best of me.
-
I feel the memory
Flowing inside of me.
As it was yesterday,
I’m a nostalgic.
I think for many things
It was much better.
I know nothing will ever
Make me go back.
Maybe instead of doing it
Just to change things,
we would like to do it
to try those feelings again
now lost.
Like the first few times
Where you do something.
Now this is life,
I know it’s not corrected.
The time we spent
She wrote our history.
With everything we left behind.
Maybe now I am able to accept it
And to find peace.
.
If you liked it, let me know in the comments, leave a like and follow me
Thank you! 🙂
You can find it all here:
Lo scrittore Volante 