Pleasure

A sense of total disillusion
neglected by the sweet taste
of passion, love and depression
a dark corner look like a mansion
any place looks so much better
without the sense of waste
taste, waste, haste
to find a space
without the pressure in the chest
only with pleasure
can you show me the path?

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Typical

Atypical, like the lines below
my mind fly away from this place
pain still hard to swallow
wounds inside my mind screams so loud
that even that I have a key, I can’t open this cage
but my heart can help my mind, and above that heavy cloud
I can find a warm sun, a peace that I can’t describe
but, it’s sad to admit, it’s like hide-and-seek
sometimes, this place it’s so easy to find
sometimes, no matter how hard I try
it’s like a war of ideas, a fall of ideals
but, it’s just a normal minute of my typical day

Ugly Sketch

We love each other with indifference
living in glorious decadence
always waiting the moment of blessed ignorance
that will save us all from the apocalyptic moment
lament, sure a moment of lament
when we discover that paradise it’s just a poectic freedom
from someone with a little more wisdom
that use pretty words to describe
something that we never will reach, never can find
but, where is it? Hided?
No, just to much far from this sick reality
that we built with shallow dreams, small talk
attempt to betray every moment, every single opportunity
to make us look like a ugly sketch of something bad
sad, realy sad

Zombie Inc.

Like a worm hunting a warm place
to keep the unique thing that have sense
the will of living, the need of breathing
you just keep searching
the perfect match, the (sick word) “crush”
sad to say, or glad to not be part of this
I must say “keep going”
what could be more important
than find heat to warm your cold chest
a hug to protect you from the evil nest
that are this real deadly world
gone, sold, gold, poled
stuck in a river
made by your own tears
so let’s toast for this, cheers
like a worm that need live
you choose to be
just another pathetic zombie
without meaning, just hunting bodies in a touch screen

Nostalgia

Nostalgia still alive
I still remember the smell
of the dirty cup, the warm wine
many laughs, no need of wondering why
just another short night
many poems, many rhymes
yes, we try
many bands, many screams and cryes
cheap drugs and a lot of cigarettes
who need deep breath when hits thirtys?
suicide letters already written, waiting to be readen
when I hit twenty five I felt like a waste of time
but the flow still keeping me forward
and sound sad to say
but nostalgia is all that I have
from a good moment from my life

Lighthouse

If this will be my last breath
I must believe that it’s useful
so I use this last second
to talk about what make me smile
not about what fed my anger, what is painful
my smile comes easy when I remeber the first night
that I stayed with ya, looking to your lips, being greatful
to God, because he gimme a chance to be with you
holding your hand already looks beautiful
with that sweet kiss you send me to heaven
here, I have no question
you are the reason of my ascension
from limbo to a true meaning, the save of my soul
don’t need be so shy, you know that it’s all right
the truth, sometimes
sound so heavy, but it’s just the truth, so let’s this light
bright, like your smile
being my lighthouse