wond´ring aloud

    Autor Mensagem
    stratopeido
    Veterano
    # ago/05


    Wond'ring aloud
    how we feel today.
    Last night sipped the sunset
    my hands in her hair.
    We are our own saviours
    as we start both our hearts beating life
    into each other.

    Wond'ring aloud
    will the years treat us well.
    As she floats in the kitchen,
    I'm tasting the smell
    of toast as the butter runs.
    Then she comes, spilling crumbs on the bed
    and I shake my head.

    And it's only the giving
    that makes you what you are.

    killerman666
    Veterano
    # ago/05
    · votar




    BaDComPaNY
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    primero

    BaDComPaNY
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    HAiuhaIUHA

    Locohawa
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    BaDComPaNY
    Lento

    stratopeido
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    :D

    _natalia_
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    \o\

    adnz
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    imitão

    Alessandra
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    =*3

    _natalia_
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    lá lá lá...
    ;D

    adnz
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    si si si....
    ;D

    Rodrigo rvssvr
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    Lombriga12
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    Sol

    Lombriga12
    Veterano
    # ago/05
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    so pra ir contra

    bocao
    Veterano
    # ago/05
    · votar


    WOND'RING AGAIN

    There's the stillness of death on a deathly unliving sea,
    and the motor car magical world long since ceased to be,
    when the Eve-bitten apple returned to destroy the tree.

    Incestuous ancestry's charabanc ride,
    spawning new millions throws the world on its side.
    Supporting their far-flung illusion, the national curse,
    and those with no sandwiches please get off the bus.

    The excrement bubbles,
    the century's slime decays
    and the brainwashing government lackeys
    would have us say
    it's under control and we'll soon be on our way
    to a grand year for babies and quiz panel games
    of the hot hungry millions you'll be sure to remain.

    The natural resources are dwindling and no one grows old,
    and those with no homes to go to, please dig yourself holes.

    We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow.
    Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I've been told.
    Stumbled on a daffodil which she crushed in the rush, heard it sigh,
    and left it to die.
    At once felt remorse and were touched by the loss of our own,
    held its poor broken head in her hands,
    dropped soft tears in the snow,
    and it's only the taking that makes you what you are.

    Wond'ring aloud will a son one day be born
    to share in our infancy
    in the child's path we've worn.
    In the aging seclusion of this earth that our birth did surprise
    we'll open his eyes.

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