Again...

I should walk away while I could

but, I'm starting to believe that I never could.

I'm on chaines since the beginning,

stuck here, without escape,

lost in my solitary desire.

A prisoner in this place,

between this walls that I made by myself.

I need to go out,

breathe and see, live and fly,

meet new people,

and stop to hide behind one inexistent love.

;*

P.s.: Isso foi algo que eu escrevi no ônibus... um quase poema num inglês arrastado... mas na poesia o que vale é a intenção, né?