Flying as a bird - Poem of the soul.

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Parade for the yellow and bitter decline of your smile,
I usually laugh quietly and disillusioned,
For so many times that I heard and called your name,
Thinking, like a bird watching the flowers,
Distracted and lost in space,
With my wings stretched and full of color,
Where the shadow does not go,
Sing a dreamer,
Where the trees do not die,
The heirs scream,
And then they jump the barricade of destiny,
For love.