5 estrelas

  Quem me dera que eu fosse o pó da estrada E que os pés dos pobres me estivessem pisando... Quem me dera que eu fosse os rios que correm E que as lavadeiras estivessem à minha beira... Quem me dera que eu fosse os choupos à margem do rio E tivesse só o céu por cima e a água por baixo... Quem me dera que eu fosse o burro do moleiro E que ele me batesse e me estimasse... Antes isso que ser o que atravessa a vida Olhando para trás de si e tendo pena... Alberto Caeiro

Rimar è facil,                                                                                                          qualquer um pode fazê-lo  Eu prefiro escrever sentimentos                                                                            Que chore ou que ri,                                                                            ...

 We try and we fail, yet we try again because that's life. How many times do we have to fall before we learn to walk? We look ahead even when the road is full of obstacles. We keep looking into a person's eye when they raise their voices to us, we keep walking even when our feet hurt and when our body is weak because that's our nature, to just keep going ! How many of us have heard someone tell us "You don't have any value." "You should be dead" "You are good at nothing" , and how many of us are still here? Day after day, week after week...getting up, trying to find a meaning to this life and trying to make someone out of ourselves? You see, life doesn't come with instructions and we all are just learning to live as we go, no one's better than anyone. A better degree doesn't make a person better than us, nor does it make someone less by not having any. A person's character is built through the choices they make in life, thro...

Look at that point. That's right here. That is our home. That is us. In it, everyone you love, everyone you meet, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever lived, lived his life. The sum of all our joys and sufferings, thousands of self-confident religions, ideologies and economic doctrines, every hunter and gatherer, every hero and coward. every creator and destroyer of civilizations, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every moral teacher, every corrupt politician, every “superstar”, every “supreme leader”, every saint and sinner in the history of our species, lived there - on a speck of dust suspended in a ray of sunlight. Earth is a very small stage in the vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood shed by all those generals and emperors, so that in their glory and triumph, they could become momentary masters of a fraction of a point. Think of the endless cruelties committed by the...

 Sentada no chão do meu quarto, oiço as vozes da minha consciência.  Aquelas vozes da razão...ou serão os gritos desesperados de uma pessoa sem saida? As imagens de uma vida que planeei passeiam me pela mente como um rolo fotografico a espera de ser revelado. Dentro levo a confusão de um amor morto e o sentido de dever, entre palavras por dizer e uma alma atormentada esta vida parece-me vazia e sem sentido.  Que caminho percorrer quando todas as portas estão fechadas com correntes?  Que sopro de vento sentir quando já meus ossos se anularam a dor?  O grito silencioso é sempre o mais doloroso porque sabemos que é aquele que ninguem percebe.  Escorrem as lágrimas pela minha face fria e sinto o sangue chorar com a água perdida.                                                                   ...