Breeze
This breeze hitting my face
In this wind blowing so soft,
Leaving one feeling more exposed
At the expense of this suffering.
The wrinkles that emerged on my face
Are marks of loves that missed.
The scars live undisguised
What I felt horrible cuts.
This breeze promises a hope
What can renew me every day.
A cry for freedom has reached me
And floods of joy poetry ...
How beautiful is the light that you brought me,
It is flower that grows rough on chest so ...
MARCOS LOURES
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