If you don't know who's was Simone,
Why ask about Sartre?
The conversation is over,
By your silence, before even start...
Why ask about the meaning of love,
If you can't feel the breeze?
Why tell you about seas and mountains,
If you poetry is limited,
To a old and bored letter, wrote to no one....
Why are you here,
If you don't belong?
If you existence,
Makes no difference.
I dare you, to answer to yourself,
About the life you have twisted,
About the nights you think you are alive,
When you are no more than dust....
And every day, you are a little late,
Leaving behind just a portion,
Of this precious time,
And every night you have to face,
Not me or your given name,
But your own fate,
In a timeless mirror.
A mirror build of you weakness,
Lack of faith,
Shame and misery.
And them you let me go,
And I know, that's just began
Because life is short,
And is to much to see.
And them you set me free..
So you can go on,
In this journey of every minute,
Every place, looking and looking...
For somebody just like me.
So you go, around and around...
Without faith, without passion.
Using words that are not yours...
Because your lack of inspiration...
Carlos Aragao's Other Poems
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