Vidas Sofridas


November 2012

Lost childhoods. Days that are always equal. Souls won by life dreams left in the streets corners.

Faces covered with wrinkles. Signs of the times and of the blackness lives full of loneliness.

Hurts cherished by ruble wines dropout in cold winters water which wash the last stains of sin, of conversations by the river.

Routine cries echoing in the air, which did not materialize experiences and emotions ever felt.

Wrinkles of wisdom, full of Suffered Lives...

Luís Reina

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