terça-feira, 27 de janeiro de 2015

Janeiral

January is almost over
And what have I done?
What have I become?
If this aquarium is almost gone
And there's nearly no more water in my lungs
How will February come?
If time raced by so instantly
And like a gunshot I've been freed
Upon a world of disillusion
Over April will I run?
I feel a tale of shortest year
Between my index and my thumb
I see no spring
I see no sun
I reach the window and take a glimpse
December's here
Almost overcome.

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