Treasure Island

Carlos Aragao

(10-17-1959 / Brazil)

Droping flowers


They keep falling...
Everyday...
Is one at the floor....

So pretty, so lovable, and so short in life,
Growing with no questions,
Just the hope of shine,
A treasure, lost forever in time,

Betrayed, for no reason,
And still shining,
As a instrument of hope,
With no captain and no direction.

Submitted: Thursday, November 22, 2007
Edited: Tuesday, April 26, 2011
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