I died too much time before.
The smile, I usually carry,
Is not as was a long time ago,
As was in days that I like to go,
See you, and no one other love.
To hate the pain, or what came in vain
Becomes the new path,
The new believe,
Chains me in a unhope full of regret.
Even thinking, sometimes, it’s not too bad,
I lied to myself,
It makes me hurt instead.
For a long way, I tell everyone
In Jesus I stayed.
Yeah, of course,
That was the only way.
In another form, how could I quite my living grave?
Touch me!
Heard my heart beat...
When you see me...
You got understand.
There are no more words,
This poetry is my claim.
Anderson Damasceno
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