Poetry and amazement by Adriana Janaína Poeta / in As Moiras

I look at this strange world,
with astonishment.
How I did
still girl
Nothing changed.
The landscapes,
beautiful and colorful,
but the human being ...
Just as it was,
so close to the abyss,
so meaningless ...
Thus, this world,
strange and ocher,
where I  pick and plant my poetry,
where I irrigate over with tears,
and I stir the earth
with stanzas and words ...
I follow the path ...
And I do not know which way
in this bizarre world.
The mistakes are in it,
repeated and old.
The movements are the same,
on the board, in the middle of the square.
The heads ... They float,
empty stares and exposed teeth.
Clean wooden dish, Revolved dices.
and the Bell  ringing in the churches.
It's noon...
It's six o'clock...
It is midnight...
But it does not matter.
Blindness dominates the world.
Ears do not listen
and the Flock steps follow,
obedients, the fate.
But I have the verses
I fill my glass
and my wooden dish with them.
They dress me,
they make me  company.
In the morning they wake me up,
before the sun is born.
The night covers me
to shelter me from the cold.
And they're my floor,
my air,
my guitar.
(Poetry and amazement by Adriana Janaína Poeta / in As Moiras)
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