Daffoldils

 




waste your country

with bumpkin voice

the culture no waits nothing


always  brights daffodils in your heart

Pedro Moreira Nt



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I saw my feet in the air

  I saw my feet in the air Each step finding dreams hanging Sending side to side They are almost all dead Shadows in brightening color falling  Reflecting their bodies on poor people which has never dreamed  Riches that think that exist dreamers  sleeping with a tied face that causes scare They hugged and definitively clasped in stuff I rise a little more fleeing from  the ground
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Entertainment Industry of Rain

  If they are    envolved employments were to dumps a national selection for protect their members sponsored against evident risks in plays, it is possible front imminent waterfall that put their products in falls down into market, we will see a turnaround from favorite pet and bets leading to results unthinkable.  It must happen in conformity with the current situation in the process of classification of the national selections with more and less investment in relation to consumer confidence. The losses will be linked to higher levels of public disclaimer and monetary requirements. However, since most companies have been able to sell their products through offshore trading betting in business institutions and other international places, it does not mean to leave the entertainment industry to wind blow away. The national selections involve a series of events bonded with thoughtful choices weighted by business agents, influenced by lobbyists, sponsors, and political d...
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I planted the dry seed

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  He was a good comrade She was sweet My mother is still the only terrain where I never would sprout she was magnificent did not need a dry seed in your country when I came I brought the presence I left her world of soft love for a mess where anything does not up I live there that is here In this spot I wrote these words, did not with words but with what could be It was my father with whom I learned to be what could be. In his imagination I was the germination. He would believe that it was here where the world could be good I fold my senses with what felt by father He was worse does not exist a garden or gardener light from alive eyes a beautiful joy a little here art is forbidden sadness desolation interdiction My mother had reason about because I showed me to her They never could know I could be what could not be I planted myself a far this place I
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