The Writting And The Speak (English Version "A Fala e a Escrita")


I spoke, I thought, I expressed myself,
Words were pronoun,
Voices weren’t heard.
I analized, I looked, I felt,
My way of thinking was locked,
And my mistakes were exalted,
In the sound of an ode and an anthem,
Always in that rythm.

By the touch of ten decasylabes,
I suffered.
By the touch of ten white rymes,
I lived.
And by the touch of ten defames,
I died.

I was striked in every point of exclamation,
And misunderstood in every point of interrogation,
With the comma I tranquilized myself,
And with the dot I finalized,
Another chapter on this story of divagation,

With no explanation.

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