ROOMS


 

I got tired of giving you my sentimental rooms

My moments, my looks, loves and feelings

Today everything is just empty moments

That for a while, become vague in time...

 

I've already prostrated myself from trying to assume something empty

I got tired of being an apothecary of friendship

Be made out of scrap metal and used like an old radiola

I decided to clean my filters, forget about the lero-lero...

 

I chose to walk alone, to make a deck just for me

I threw to the ground the fuzarca chumbrega that does not satisfy me

He decides to leave his mother Joana's house, I'm going to get borocoxô

But with a jeweled conscience.

 

Barueri Young Poet 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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