tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46671319172602546992024-03-22T00:54:10.701+00:00Feelings WolfThe refuge of the wolf.Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-74206092247187317442011-08-05T14:38:00.000+01:002011-08-05T14:38:08.708+01:00Triste<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYxSH5wz95TO7gEs26SEpVuiSZfIjPFZgaYbKYH_9LJfNdECB2OOIdfp-TMoCH9JmEIzWM7hmLHa47HkYsybsgCqTbzaPWnT2LSwVtbof8lstRCtaP3OEQDTlrCH5DpsRJ1veH5RiGuyc/s1600/LIVRO___Da__Vida.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYxSH5wz95TO7gEs26SEpVuiSZfIjPFZgaYbKYH_9LJfNdECB2OOIdfp-TMoCH9JmEIzWM7hmLHa47HkYsybsgCqTbzaPWnT2LSwVtbof8lstRCtaP3OEQDTlrCH5DpsRJ1veH5RiGuyc/s320/LIVRO___Da__Vida.jpg" t$="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Hoje a tristeza invade o meu pensamento,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Sorrio por fora, mas por dentro choro,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Tenho ódio de mim, sinto dor na alma,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Com quem partilho os pensamentos?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Ninguém…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Ninguém para falar, desabafar, encostar a cabeça e chorar…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Ninguém…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Apetece-me escrever, escrever, escrever…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Sem ler, sem saber o que as folhas recebem da minha mão, do meu pensamento…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Não reclamam, não respondem, nem se escondem de mim, </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Simplesmente, me escutam em silencio…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Não interessa quem sou, nem o que penso, simplesmente me escutam…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Dou largas à tristeza procurando alegria,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Mas… </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Aonde procurar?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Choro, sinto-me distante, de tudo, de todos…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Qual ombro amigo para chorar, quais palavras de afecto…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Aonde choro?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Nas linhas que escrevo…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Nas palavras que ninguém lê.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Choro através das lágrimas da caneta, que vão desenhando palavras que se perdem nas folhas brancas…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><span style="color: red;">Ai, choro e ninguém escuta a dor do meu sorriso…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt;"><br />
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-89906364770926273162011-07-07T14:33:00.001+01:002011-07-07T14:38:17.068+01:00Parte 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7dICGFUTlKEiUOayU215ktb9srBcazmGB26SWx3e9-E9RH-3Xdd9AXLJxpXr6I7UH02_uv7meEOKUZQNTmzaAkD15MCu0LiKSRvFbJFk6oxaKqqBN3VMCELl9_1uNnFcSy39-TewfDtf/s1600/106937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" m$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR7dICGFUTlKEiUOayU215ktb9srBcazmGB26SWx3e9-E9RH-3Xdd9AXLJxpXr6I7UH02_uv7meEOKUZQNTmzaAkD15MCu0LiKSRvFbJFk6oxaKqqBN3VMCELl9_1uNnFcSy39-TewfDtf/s320/106937.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Encostas-te teus lábios nos meus, um beijo longo e doce, como nunca sentira, claro que o toque me deixou longo com uma tesão enorme,</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Tinhas um corpo quente, delicado, uma pele macia, com um perfume de essência de framboesa, Um beijo que me deixou a caminho das nuvens,</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Elevei o braço e percorri o teu corpo, senti os teus mamilos ficarem duros, tesos, reparei que ao meu toque um arrepio te percorria o corpo, fechavas os olhos.</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">A minha mão percorreu por caminhos desconhecidos, apreciando cada pedacinho de pele por onde passava, ate que parei, como a pedir permissão de entrar em caminhos proibidos, teus olhos piscaram, um sorriso maroto saiu de teus lábios, a permissão estava dada.</span></strong></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Logo os meus dedos percorreram o caminho desejado ate ao fruto proibido, penetrando num local sagrado, com um toque suave, movimentos cadentes e lentos senti-te quente, a escorrer, os teus gemidos baixinhos junto do meu ouvido, punham-me louco, estavas sedenta de carinho, de paixão, os teus olhos não mentiam.</span></strong></div><div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: justify;"><strong><span style="color: red; font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Cont.</span></strong></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-78742836593901832662011-06-21T14:00:00.001+01:002011-06-21T14:09:34.176+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFho5eAxZ66ekMtM7664_2-u7K5KBqanYQMyPjjg1dT88gN34OuM-LEthH_Az3rzxg8CRDJvADkIAnIJ6gLslTO3TFbN0KjlCUZFlFQJ1uPjwRzhTsv3RHEkpiXaDYV0wD6xggNwLGnf6Z/s1600/Por-do-sol%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="202" i$="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFho5eAxZ66ekMtM7664_2-u7K5KBqanYQMyPjjg1dT88gN34OuM-LEthH_Az3rzxg8CRDJvADkIAnIJ6gLslTO3TFbN0KjlCUZFlFQJ1uPjwRzhTsv3RHEkpiXaDYV0wD6xggNwLGnf6Z/s320/Por-do-sol%255B1%255D.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><strong>Cansado, sentei-me a ver o luar, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>A noite estava quente, corria uma brisa suave, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Como o toque dos anjos nas nuvens, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Cerro os olhos e sinto o perfume da noite, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Respiro aquela suave brisa com cheiro a solidão, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Sinto passos, alguém que se aproxima, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Pé ante pé, ligeiro, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Sinto um suave aroma a frutas com mistura de canela, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Perfume já conhecido, só não sabia quem, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Viro-me e deparo-me contigo, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Sim contigo, esfreguei os olhos não fosse ter adormecido e estar a sonhar, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Mas não, estava acordado o teu sorriso logo me hipnotizou, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Sentaste-te a meu lado, eu...</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Não tinha palavras para aquele momento, momento único, nunca por mim imaginado.</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"><strong>Teus olhos brilhavam, o teu sorriso de menina marota estava presente, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Foi quando senti uma vontade louca de te beijar, </strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>Tinha esquecido o motivo de estar ali, só,</strong></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><strong>A olhar o infinito, com o céu como pano de fundo e o mar como tapete…</strong></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><strong><span style="color: red;">Cont.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-49533065809124729322011-06-08T14:16:00.001+01:002011-06-08T14:23:00.090+01:00<span style="color: #cc0000;"></span><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></strong><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5XLtOc3OF5gZQ_YxkvDsapaX-FX9BvHkD-J42UoL53ofAknm4lx86Ukpx9nTuTTMNII9gIlJEwpgzerN0lMys8MtstIz9MnsprDQDCId6Kgqq3WLyAfHSsES2MGvA1f0F2N0zr26T-UV/s1600/passarinhos1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE5XLtOc3OF5gZQ_YxkvDsapaX-FX9BvHkD-J42UoL53ofAknm4lx86Ukpx9nTuTTMNII9gIlJEwpgzerN0lMys8MtstIz9MnsprDQDCId6Kgqq3WLyAfHSsES2MGvA1f0F2N0zr26T-UV/s320/passarinhos1.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Soam trovões,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Caiem tempestades,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Chove, chove sem parar,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Zangam-se os céus,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Rebentam as nuvens,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Escuro, muito escuro,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">E,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">A tristeza aparece,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Magoadas, choram as flores no campo,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deixam rolar lágrimas de suas pétalas,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Lágrimas de dor,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ao longe, escuta-se o grito de um passarinho, e</span></strong><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">m apuros,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Caiu de seu ninho,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Seus filhotes caíram,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Chora o vento quando passa,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Bate nos ramos com força,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Sacudindo a mágoa do tempo,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ligeiro, bem ligeiro,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Levanta a cabeça o Girassol,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Procurando o Sol,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que teima em não aparecer,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ouve-se erguer a brisa,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que entretanto caira,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Tapando com seu manto,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Os sons da natureza,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Abafados, se esconderam,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">O sol resolve aparecer, ligeiro,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Com medo de se mostrar,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Seca com seus raios a terra,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que em pouco tempo a tempestade fustigou,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">O passarinho com esforço tenta levantar a cabeça,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Para a deixar tombar novamente, </span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">De tão cansado que estava,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">E não mais se moveu,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">As flores quase secas, largaram gotas,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Como que a chorar,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Por uma vida inocente e tão pequenina,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que se debateu, perante uma tempestade,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que não deu tréguas, nem aos mais puros e inocentes seres,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">O dia escureceu, e a lua veio cobrir com seu luar,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">O ser que padeceu, estendendo-se pelo prado,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que será a morada eterna de uma alma tão pequenina,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Sorri passarinho,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">O paraíso te espera,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Quem sabe um dia te farei companhia,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">E cantarás em meu ombro quando o dia nascer,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ai,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Te protegerei da tempestade,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Que não te deixou,</span></strong><br />
<strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Aprender a viver...</span></strong>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-45262331516527069772011-06-07T14:07:00.000+01:002011-06-07T14:07:25.522+01:00Saudades<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJPOA3o7BChTwfBruDIU5xY8mI5vh_rRRlkap5TuZIDuexy5lPQtg4r_-4bnAKE4iPSaT-VeIRGRE9sBPmflUymtc8EG2SvflnhqlygSHhpBL8UjaoK5_hnhaMGMcblt_wV4b3IDfH-rI/s1600/263619mulher_lobo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMJPOA3o7BChTwfBruDIU5xY8mI5vh_rRRlkap5TuZIDuexy5lPQtg4r_-4bnAKE4iPSaT-VeIRGRE9sBPmflUymtc8EG2SvflnhqlygSHhpBL8UjaoK5_hnhaMGMcblt_wV4b3IDfH-rI/s320/263619mulher_lobo.jpg" t8="true" width="274" /></a></div><div align="center"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Saudades dos tempos de professor,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Quando castigava meninas más.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Saudades do tempo,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Quando a voz e o sorriso me deixavam louco.</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Meu Deus, </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Quanto tempo já passou...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deus, </span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Porque sorri a pomba,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Se à crianças que choram?</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deus,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Porque nasce o sol,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Se o luar me faz feliz?</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deus,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Porque ando eu,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Se aquela criança não tem pernas?</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deus,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Porque uiva o lobo,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Se é livre e pode correr?</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Deus,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Se um dia me encontrares caído,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Não ligues, e segue,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color: #cc0000;">Ajuda antes os que estão de pé...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><br />
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-38515444064208170182011-06-06T14:19:00.001+01:002011-06-06T14:21:47.794+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpKqLgi6Gh3UEnjH-a0xH9SdoCrzci3uaFtSSaQ97LmWdNrC7OWqv1ZO8ZP7DIC_TrMf_LuO3LP8Ude4qTxnfuAWka4r6GpMiYUG8s_vs5eIHCYmwv3WMnLoxGgNwUAy0mYlwFUN9zYqA/s1600/0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpKqLgi6Gh3UEnjH-a0xH9SdoCrzci3uaFtSSaQ97LmWdNrC7OWqv1ZO8ZP7DIC_TrMf_LuO3LP8Ude4qTxnfuAWka4r6GpMiYUG8s_vs5eIHCYmwv3WMnLoxGgNwUAy0mYlwFUN9zYqA/s320/0.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Sou aquele que chora,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Quando sorri e ninguém vê.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Sou aquele que ri,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Quando chora sem ninguém saber.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Vejo a luz acesa,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Quando está apagada.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Vejo o sol brilhar quando está a chover.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Mas no meu mundo,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Sou o adeus de quem partiu sem sorrir.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Acalmo a vontade de um dia,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Ser quem possa olhar nos olhos de alguém,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>E a faça sorrir.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Sentir o coração,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Quando os olhos piscam e deixam correr uma lágrima,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>De alegria sem saber porquê.</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Serei um dia alguém,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Que possa sentir a amizade?</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Ou serei só a lágrima,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>Que se esqueceu de cair,</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><strong>E secou...</strong></span></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-23383587746808460012011-06-02T16:27:00.000+01:002011-06-02T16:27:34.466+01:00De Volta...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIQiKV4deC8o4HbuTIo8NZ2VwanQmVHjfIE8QSjD6i83BUBDD1_5sIclSBdZddUizXKzz3noIixWyOLuilTnK3DEP500Xw44_USug7QsR3QPlI_u4a4nkN0R6SYM42JMBiNrWyeu8l9l7/s1600/20071222104714144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmIQiKV4deC8o4HbuTIo8NZ2VwanQmVHjfIE8QSjD6i83BUBDD1_5sIclSBdZddUizXKzz3noIixWyOLuilTnK3DEP500Xw44_USug7QsR3QPlI_u4a4nkN0R6SYM42JMBiNrWyeu8l9l7/s320/20071222104714144.jpg" t8="true" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De volta…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Mas sem o sorriso que se soltou algures entre o paraíso</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E o inferno…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Preso no espaço,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">No tempo que voa,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">O pensamento perdido nas palavras que magoam e…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sem retorno.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Desculpas que não se pedem mas,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Podem-se evitar.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De volta…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Mas sem brilho,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sem chama que envolta em névoa, se apagou, se perdeu…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sem luz para iluminar o caminho,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Que não existe…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De volta…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sem saber como…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sabendo só que as lágrimas que rolam,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">São pedaços de dor,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Que ardem na sua passagem,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Deixando marcas profundas na alma…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De volta…</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Sem saber de onde...</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0pt; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Nem para onde…</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-86625486751616611992011-01-10T14:19:00.000+00:002011-01-10T14:19:56.707+00:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1vzWvrDFDqNaEk5NbssZ0NFla1HKGVJuUp1ZT2B5oDlPy6HtCnSp-on5fq8Dgx4H8KKQSolel46jYp7SBTAwJYODtrtMkuh9bzmuDHjQXETadrwoV_InCu79-Q9278d975w7olVAlYPS/s1600/despedida_thumb%255B2%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh1vzWvrDFDqNaEk5NbssZ0NFla1HKGVJuUp1ZT2B5oDlPy6HtCnSp-on5fq8Dgx4H8KKQSolel46jYp7SBTAwJYODtrtMkuh9bzmuDHjQXETadrwoV_InCu79-Q9278d975w7olVAlYPS/s320/despedida_thumb%255B2%255D.jpg" width="206" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Meus amigos:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Por a lua se esconder,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">O sol se apagar,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E os anjos ganharem asas,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;"> E desaparecerem,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Com as palavras que tanto procuro,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E não encontro.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Ficando assim impossibilitado de continuar o meu refúgio.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">A todos os que me seguiram,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">O meu obrigado,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E quem sabe mais tarde o lobo voltara, num outro refúgio.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-26383240948764443612011-01-10T14:10:00.000+00:002011-01-10T14:10:05.574+00:00Cansado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduaRsbXh9upbCt8y4lnh7Jl3QQfVhPBbmnjYpXonugT8v5ZDZ_NSHw0I0KdGek_Fcs3_Xr14cdx81Gm7LryocFgAlU2i8pYkTuQFATQYF1KWLW0i_4nk8hhThu7Z8sY8oHj33-5rBUGSS/s1600/homem_nu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" n4="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjduaRsbXh9upbCt8y4lnh7Jl3QQfVhPBbmnjYpXonugT8v5ZDZ_NSHw0I0KdGek_Fcs3_Xr14cdx81Gm7LryocFgAlU2i8pYkTuQFATQYF1KWLW0i_4nk8hhThu7Z8sY8oHj33-5rBUGSS/s320/homem_nu.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Estou cansado,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De falar para dentro,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Do pensamento sair e,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Perder-se por caminhos incertos,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Cansado...</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Da chuva,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Do vento,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Do sofrimento da alma.</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Cansado...</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De ver crianças que choram,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E nada é feito,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">De ver a fome percorrer o mundo,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">E quem sofre?...</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Os mais frágeis, os mais puros,</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Aqueles que dizem ser...</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">"Os homens de amanhã"</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">As crianças...</span></div><div align="center" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: red;">Estou cansado...</span></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-14871917403328013392011-01-06T13:13:00.002+00:002011-01-06T14:12:07.367+00:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-CYuQDxn8YS8q4S_-1X-xn5Sv8-Z805hjeIMFc-3E-a_EAYKlZjAT6x4OJnPxCcaNIVPFr824IDOiQ4UUZBII6hPy0_JBj_pAUav_lnsSWg9KQl0hqOPs5ijXRUf16Vt8N_zztxlO15z/s1600/LIVRO___Da__Vida.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 223px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 226px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559075277250542770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV-CYuQDxn8YS8q4S_-1X-xn5Sv8-Z805hjeIMFc-3E-a_EAYKlZjAT6x4OJnPxCcaNIVPFr824IDOiQ4UUZBII6hPy0_JBj_pAUav_lnsSWg9KQl0hqOPs5ijXRUf16Vt8N_zztxlO15z/s200/LIVRO___Da__Vida.jpg" /></a>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São palavras incertas, que me fazem partir rumo a outros mundos,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São incertezas constantes que me assolam os pensamentos,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São lágrimas que desobedecem ao meu ser,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quem sou, para onde vou, o que quero?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sempre pensamentos que assolam a minha vontade,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Me <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">perseguem</span>,deixando um rasto de dor no coração,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Um sentimento de culpa sempre presente.</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Estarei a ficar louco?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ou a loucura se <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">expande</span> por sentimentos, </span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Atormentando</span> o meu ser, a minha alma,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixando-me sem voz, sem sonhos, </span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixando-me só...</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Já lá vai o tempo que sonhar era quase um luxo,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Se assim fosse, os pobres seriam ricos?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Mas sonhava, sonhava com o vento, com o mar,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Com a descoberta de novos seres, de novas companhias, amizades,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Mas enfim...</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Serei eu louco?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ou serei eu apenas mais um no universo de tantos,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Que se esconderam...</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
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<div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-45410129372045521132010-12-29T13:48:00.003+00:002010-12-29T14:04:46.597+00:00Palavras ao Vento<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWT9JvYCpyBFlMwNLy_SmoEM5CnRDyjt0RsoNlAbpw4aG3mcfou5MRt9m-D3DkeO8h1wEC8JNkdgE5uRMnJifMOY5ecpC0UfunPwBgTkjwWWJr2SAultXFjUOvXy1aORtr7Wsd82022dS/s1600/0.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5556100894457223666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyWT9JvYCpyBFlMwNLy_SmoEM5CnRDyjt0RsoNlAbpw4aG3mcfou5MRt9m-D3DkeO8h1wEC8JNkdgE5uRMnJifMOY5ecpC0UfunPwBgTkjwWWJr2SAultXFjUOvXy1aORtr7Wsd82022dS/s320/0.jpg" /></a><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde estão as palavras que me faltam para poder sorrir,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde está a luz que brilha no escuro para me guiar,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde está a brisa que sopra quando a voz soa,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde está o espelho que reflecte minha dor,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde está o anjo que me protege...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Poderei eu tornar o céu azul, para que possas voar livre, meu anjo...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Saberei eu o significado da amizade para que a possa sentir,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Onde poderei eu deixar esta dor de saudade que me persegue,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Fecho os olhos e sonho com o caminho que me leva ao templo dos anjos,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">E ai encontrar as palavras, o sentimento, o ódio, o amor...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Lágrimas que teimam em rolar e, secam sem ninguém ver, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De tão salgadas que são,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De tão sentidas que são...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Porquê, digam-me porquê?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">O porquê do coração apertar no peito, quando sentimos saudade? </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Porque dói a voz quando choramos?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Porque piscam os olhos quando ardem?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Porquê?...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Poderei eu sorrir?...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Poderei eu amar?...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ou simplesmente existir...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">
</div></span><div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-38704598380212640022010-12-17T17:06:00.002+00:002010-12-17T17:38:38.554+00:00<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA3E4EKCJJE3wtVOons2cEgyvWdPkSjK6TR0ddVA-N7bzVJvZQg18VbURWltGmR6CtN5K-fApjfEm6kUac33GrXEl3uLcUU6t8UaKhmLSR0RuKqjDghmR1KdsrxvONGcVLrjFAGr-Ux3-/s1600/natal.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5551704160516878546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuA3E4EKCJJE3wtVOons2cEgyvWdPkSjK6TR0ddVA-N7bzVJvZQg18VbURWltGmR6CtN5K-fApjfEm6kUac33GrXEl3uLcUU6t8UaKhmLSR0RuKqjDghmR1KdsrxvONGcVLrjFAGr-Ux3-/s320/natal.JPG" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Como estamos em época natalícia,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Aqui vão os meus desejos:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">1- 730 dias de sexo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">O quê? o ano só tem 365 dias?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Não faz mal fazemos duas vezes por dia (ou mais)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">2- Paz e aaammmmmmooooorrrr, (muito)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">3- Começar o ano em força, (com força)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">4- Ter muitas arvores de natal destas para enfeitar, (lol)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">5- Será que faz mal pedir mais árvores (ou não)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">6- Que o pai natal nunca se canse (eu)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">7- Saúde para todos, incluindo o pai natal (claro)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
</div><div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-57948768291798747332010-11-23T13:59:00.001+00:002010-11-23T14:04:08.211+00:00<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Kkc2A7iWd6CXrjbOqfzmOk0KOtMlzsPoGwFFKx7RPeywTiQiWBSKMbuemJJXEzsBcoEwAn8qNc0STjZo_rYtn7ANI8CK9_VSAR9AbrXgPgw3tct50kYEQkzblgGmIj03OTfXogZdU05E/s1600/6604.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5542745062034496146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Kkc2A7iWd6CXrjbOqfzmOk0KOtMlzsPoGwFFKx7RPeywTiQiWBSKMbuemJJXEzsBcoEwAn8qNc0STjZo_rYtn7ANI8CK9_VSAR9AbrXgPgw3tct50kYEQkzblgGmIj03OTfXogZdU05E/s320/6604.jpg" /></a>
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Hummm... </span>
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Estás a pensar o mesmo que eu?</span>
<span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-22905836330593353002010-11-18T12:44:00.004+00:002010-11-19T12:51:03.353+00:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDcosZQMHg8p_YPrC-sZdK-OZXLfkQKUiCXTx7BjMUwMouoFQGEnlwWOiQrHFG9KbQeUVULnOQ_s0PM5UxmdNTNkAf7IEGma86k2dz8H2LKy9G-hCptPrQFbKDTjh-czWVGbWoN6d1iht/s1600/5273.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 307px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540874236174242322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDcosZQMHg8p_YPrC-sZdK-OZXLfkQKUiCXTx7BjMUwMouoFQGEnlwWOiQrHFG9KbQeUVULnOQ_s0PM5UxmdNTNkAf7IEGma86k2dz8H2LKy9G-hCptPrQFbKDTjh-czWVGbWoN6d1iht/s320/5273.jpg" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Em tempos recebi um desafio de uma amiga muito especial,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sei que já passou algum tempo, e peço desculpa por isso, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">mas para poder aceitar um desafio, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">tenho que estar à altura para poder responder, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">e isso envolve tanto o bem estar de <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">espírito</span> como pessoal.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Mas cá vai.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">5 factos sobre mim:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">1- Detesto hipocrisia e <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">egoísmo</span>.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">2- Sou sentimental, (ás vezes demais)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">3- <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Romântico</span> (muito)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">4- Pensador, (demasiado)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">5- Sou louco por <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">lingerie</span>.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Agora o mais <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">difícil</span>,porque são tantas, mas entre tantas escolhi as principais,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">10 coisas que gosto de fazer:</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">1- Musica, esconder-me num canto ás escuras e escutar Mozart.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">2- Andar de mota, sentir a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">sensação</span> de liberdade.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">3- Sentar-me junto ao mar e escutar o silêncio das ondas.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">4- Escrever sem pensar, acontece muito e adoro <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">fazê</span>-lo.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">5- <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Ler</span>, ter um bom livro e <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">ler</span> ate me cansar.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">6- Ver o sorriso de uma criança, adoro vê-las felizes.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">7- Mergulho, adoro vestir um fato, por uma máscara e barbatanas, e mergulhar, sentir o silêncio do fundo do mar, e a calma que isso transmite, (sem palavras).</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">8- <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Desfolhar</span> revistas e <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">confeccionar</span> um bom jantar, sim porque gosto de cozinhar, (mas não por obrigação).</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">9- Gosto de andar de noite, sentir o luar, principalmente andar á beira mar.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">10- Adoro fazer surpresas, (um jantar, umas flores uma <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-error">musiquinha</span>...) ou não fosse eu <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">romântico</span>.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">E pronto, assim fica o desafio <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">concluído</span>.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center">
</div><div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-22543179553125477932010-11-11T14:08:00.002+00:002010-11-11T14:17:41.440+00:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtr4BgRQA9InsYFOeCPE9AzLYQsSwVRcMejceaIjzxmdBx9i4XLXkU81NsQOKmEXjBN7sN6_3as71dZK-WHopNRgrhlKY6WmXOPp5-8MTpz2zHN0EDWLsLvGAMT5m2N6tdzvMF9XmKrMIk/s1600/sozinho+na+cama.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 253px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5538294250897022434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtr4BgRQA9InsYFOeCPE9AzLYQsSwVRcMejceaIjzxmdBx9i4XLXkU81NsQOKmEXjBN7sN6_3as71dZK-WHopNRgrhlKY6WmXOPp5-8MTpz2zHN0EDWLsLvGAMT5m2N6tdzvMF9XmKrMIk/s320/sozinho+na+cama.jpg" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Sinto que falta qualquer coisa,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Não escuto o teu coração,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Nem te ouço respirar,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Sinto o vazio que tu deixas-te,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Falta o teu sorriso, </span><span style="color:#ff0000;">para me aquecer,</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Falta a tua voz para me libertar.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Sinto falta daquilo que não sinto... </strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sinto a tua falta...</span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
</div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-8033137186417335312010-11-03T13:03:00.002+00:002010-11-03T13:23:53.490+00:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRh8j4XtAmJJRvn3L_2QKFen9TaAyW5UZqxae0Q48xRw4jM-WOOT0wlXerVQeQ31cizIicprpIyckcBMsQLexFGyUB0Ust5UUK7RtqZmes6NByK7Pwi6a4GE3wTNmxAHzzsZ2nNcgbCRB/s1600/untitled3.bmp"><span></span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 244px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5535310575291047074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHRh8j4XtAmJJRvn3L_2QKFen9TaAyW5UZqxae0Q48xRw4jM-WOOT0wlXerVQeQ31cizIicprpIyckcBMsQLexFGyUB0Ust5UUK7RtqZmes6NByK7Pwi6a4GE3wTNmxAHzzsZ2nNcgbCRB/s320/untitled3.bmp" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Saudades </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De pintar teu corpo com os olhos,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De ser o ar que respiras,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De ser luz que te ilumina.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Saudades</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De ser o sol que te aquece, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De ser a lua que te enobrece,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De ser o anjo que te proteje.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Saudades</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do perfume que enalas,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do sabor com que me deleito,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do ser que me afaga.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Saudades </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do ser que fui,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do ser que foste,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Do ser que fomos.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Saudades...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
</div><div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-38640280657964992142010-10-11T13:24:00.002+01:002010-10-11T13:32:17.225+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq3r4h_ErdkvwLAN5r_qRzkfVASkhHkYJQPVsG53yEiZdPyOytiRBJ7KMlIxiSamc4sJQS91boVvX-SZdvQZ655vqp8_qRvo2ThGNj5XO9dkAjNDSkY6I72h3Rcmj_AM_eiMbq2oaAhmV/s1600/500x500.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5526763547440093394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 126px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIq3r4h_ErdkvwLAN5r_qRzkfVASkhHkYJQPVsG53yEiZdPyOytiRBJ7KMlIxiSamc4sJQS91boVvX-SZdvQZ655vqp8_qRvo2ThGNj5XO9dkAjNDSkY6I72h3Rcmj_AM_eiMbq2oaAhmV/s320/500x500.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Vem, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Eu espero, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem pressas te dispo, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Te seguro de encontro a mim,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sente o calor do meu respirar,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Cada vez mais <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sôfrego</span>,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Entrega-te,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixa que te contemple,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Percorro teu corpo com a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">língua</span>,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Deslumbro</span> o rasto que nele fica,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Saboreio</span> cada gota de teu suor,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sorvo toda a tua beleza em mim,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Vem...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Eu espero...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center">
</div><div align="center"></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-70993727814860796272010-10-08T14:01:00.003+01:002010-10-08T14:20:01.499+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56fzoqPNigQCUzszHryjumqNF3EmjJVH2ZIuTjiGlJnPjexk0AWF8TM9l3Go-luuccxCsZHLsWINLOBprTpOTMTfkGpE1v1_dcGjDNfNT8pVJhzfHG-8J8SLKxlYsHS6OZDcML27kOKX-/s1600/untitled.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5525664060794712802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 292px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg56fzoqPNigQCUzszHryjumqNF3EmjJVH2ZIuTjiGlJnPjexk0AWF8TM9l3Go-luuccxCsZHLsWINLOBprTpOTMTfkGpE1v1_dcGjDNfNT8pVJhzfHG-8J8SLKxlYsHS6OZDcML27kOKX-/s320/untitled.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quem sou eu?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou alma penada,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Que vive no pensamento,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou ser que ri e chora,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem ninguém escutar,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou ser que pede perdão aos filhos,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Porque este mundo não presta,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou um ponto no infinito,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Que mal se vê,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quem sou eu?</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Não sei quem sou,</span></div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Mas sei que não sou ninguém...</span> </div>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-31079783562360486302010-09-08T13:56:00.005+01:002010-09-08T14:28:52.123+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5jvjA56GW-VlyCPfZGedet7ACkBTGanslUgL-r1YHLyHzrNyxnSM6wr27GDAL5QOWT__K5ephLepWozCmYMoV4sUt0cfzTuqhVWL8f5jskGRZfoo-x_ElWiy7Uuq85cHQ4QhYcwhMevi/s1600/alma_minha.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5514526387170779506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv5jvjA56GW-VlyCPfZGedet7ACkBTGanslUgL-r1YHLyHzrNyxnSM6wr27GDAL5QOWT__K5ephLepWozCmYMoV4sUt0cfzTuqhVWL8f5jskGRZfoo-x_ElWiy7Uuq85cHQ4QhYcwhMevi/s320/alma_minha.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou o que sou,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">E nada mais sou,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Que aquilo que sinto.</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou os sonhos que se perdem,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">pelo infinito vazio da realidade,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou sonhador que peca,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">com a alma e pensamento,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou pecado que liberta a realidade do sonho,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">romântico</span> de corpo e alma,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou choro que quebra o silêncio vazio,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou amante fiel, perdido no tempo,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou lobo que uiva cansado,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou céu estrelado quando os olhos fecha,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou louco que chora sorrindo.</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me ser o grito que sorri,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me uivar, sonhando,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me fugir e não voltar,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me ser o que sou,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me ser louco,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me sonhar...</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Deixai-me penar...</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Para ser o que sou...</span> </div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-13803693366276042502010-08-19T14:42:00.012+01:002010-08-19T15:21:19.655+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDLrFMP6ozB_CKhLkMu1lRzfg3c5pVznWRP3LdniKN7do3wbx4iJOJQYFE2dRfSjJDfSYbAElcbNq64E8zSYoOSnV8T7h3pTki6j4RvFWYo8VVzzBlZ_18zu0hxMutAPVrBichjF4KtUf/s1600/sem_palavras%5B4%5D.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507120884064925346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFDLrFMP6ozB_CKhLkMu1lRzfg3c5pVznWRP3LdniKN7do3wbx4iJOJQYFE2dRfSjJDfSYbAElcbNq64E8zSYoOSnV8T7h3pTki6j4RvFWYo8VVzzBlZ_18zu0hxMutAPVrBichjF4KtUf/s320/sem_palavras%5B4%5D.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">SEM PALAVRAS...</span></em></strong> </div><div align="center">
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Palavras que me saem,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Soltas, sem pensar,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Desabafos escritos,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"></span></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-error">Sigilosos</span>, ou não,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Pensamentos cobertos,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Pela alma escondidos,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Perdidos, sonhados</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Palavras que traem,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ditas bem alto e, mudas,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ninguém as ouve,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Choro, choro com palavras,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">sem som,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Choro pela alma,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Que teima em se esconder,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Calo a dor, que sai do meu peito,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Calo o pensamento que está desfeito,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Choro, mas ninguém ouve,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito sem som,</span></em></strong>
<strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></em></strong></div><div align="center"><strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem Palavras...</span></em></strong> </div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-26055241532104800812010-08-19T14:15:00.004+01:002010-08-19T15:21:50.860+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9gzT8qls39RBzux6yENeU9QMAJsEELwboHdk0J9NWI_HcAxr-JVmR1CcdQQjFIDnLbeP5S3BDU2LPCf3zgRpARhWPg4o5XIth6F8zVKkvMKJa9HywWb0b5f4TiBVSBiry3pK9Pmf3t5v/s1600/tumblr_kpeu14dsdd1qz8s3ho1_500.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5507115958403844930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO9gzT8qls39RBzux6yENeU9QMAJsEELwboHdk0J9NWI_HcAxr-JVmR1CcdQQjFIDnLbeP5S3BDU2LPCf3zgRpARhWPg4o5XIth6F8zVKkvMKJa9HywWb0b5f4TiBVSBiry3pK9Pmf3t5v/s320/tumblr_kpeu14dsdd1qz8s3ho1_500.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4tdIGcCAlzenJZ9JGvy3yhukwIPqvLZEratnUzEgDrtOs0wWr2L0mdzdahUjXjhI65tWb7OVHzqwqCirHp49YHbMiUKBtDoQ_OJWirMSujZaq05lZEQLYKcZl6TIRahbzducCTxKOex6G/s1600/sedu%25C3%25A7%25C3%25A3o3.jpg"></a><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Sopro no teu ouvido,</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Um beijo <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">ternurento</span>.</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Queres mais?</span> </div><div align="center">
<span style="color:#ff0000;">Suplica...</span>
<span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
<span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>
</div><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-16209105611655192012010-08-06T11:34:00.002+01:002010-08-06T11:47:11.786+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3N3UnqUGQzLUFVTwUQwE_DMP7RHXfXHRHkT2bbaXr5S7YvJZrz7OCyNDb1xIXznvq9zPx5uhzEI6ytfotNI2RyEckuMEqvEC-YeWmHdqx3jetr37DwVoe9FaT60ArvhaMuOrKWwgmoYy/s1600/letras.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5502244366638932210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr3N3UnqUGQzLUFVTwUQwE_DMP7RHXfXHRHkT2bbaXr5S7YvJZrz7OCyNDb1xIXznvq9zPx5uhzEI6ytfotNI2RyEckuMEqvEC-YeWmHdqx3jetr37DwVoe9FaT60ArvhaMuOrKWwgmoYy/s320/letras.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">LETRAS PERDIDAS</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São mensagens esquecidas,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">no pensamento e na alma</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São corpos perdidos no tempo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">sem movimento e sem cor</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Letras Perdidas</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São o pensamento adormecido,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São o vento que passa e não nos vê</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São momentos que não sentimos</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Letras Perdidas</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São desabafos escritos que ninguém lê,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São refúgios da dor postados em papel</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">São momentos em que a lágrima que cai</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">se transforma na tinta que escrevemos</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Letras Perdidas</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quem as lê?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Se ninguém sabe que existem...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">(Dedicada a uma grande amiga com M grande)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-38481781473648321172010-08-04T13:02:00.004+01:002010-08-04T14:33:38.778+01:00<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFSRxEvfVHpAV2lW8YlAyfauEFxW23r95J02XqI3Sznu-_4bNwcPsPevMmXquOo8G3ntuI5CdPQVHblqGKnzselEYanCQqLHQpVL8UYXoM6i1w3wIUFdT_zpMm5cIKrlluz2FUAis1CY9/s1600/O_grito.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501524065052452178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJFSRxEvfVHpAV2lW8YlAyfauEFxW23r95J02XqI3Sznu-_4bNwcPsPevMmXquOo8G3ntuI5CdPQVHblqGKnzselEYanCQqLHQpVL8UYXoM6i1w3wIUFdT_zpMm5cIKrlluz2FUAis1CY9/s320/O_grito.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="color:#ff0000;">Na calada da noite,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ouço o grito do pensamento,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem som, grito mudo,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Calado, sentido,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito sem dor, vivido,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito da alma que cai,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Mudo, sem cor,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito infame, penetrante,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito de paz, de fé,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito de esperança, de alegria...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Quem sabe?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito calado na noite, abafado,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito com lágrima, sentido,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Grito de choro, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Até nascer o dia...</span>
<span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">E o grito se esconde atrás de um sorriso,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Que grita e chora, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">E calado, sorri...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-59730599146599583962010-08-02T13:14:00.003+01:002010-08-02T13:49:10.330+01:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitl_UbPWGEjeiXAfv-0gQVHkeePc8xRdA4-46ABQBxu7BVJpe0Z68SfQWOyL3C0kz8whlyPw-nCxczfHoZBqITRvLBJyb9rGCqgYmn2fSD1S5pGUzx_oarqIlWt7PYAP-rtH2yHNAbiVvj/s1600/lobo,,.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500786293764081762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 220px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitl_UbPWGEjeiXAfv-0gQVHkeePc8xRdA4-46ABQBxu7BVJpe0Z68SfQWOyL3C0kz8whlyPw-nCxczfHoZBqITRvLBJyb9rGCqgYmn2fSD1S5pGUzx_oarqIlWt7PYAP-rtH2yHNAbiVvj/s320/lobo,,.JPG" border="0" /></a>
<div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">De volta à realidade,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Encontro um mundo diferente,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem palavras que possam descrever o que sinto,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sem <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">tripécias</span></span> de qualquer espécie, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">ou rancores de qualquer alma,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sinto um cantinho na alma, vazio,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Não tenho palavras, que possam traduzir o pensamento,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">não tenho a luz da lua que me ilumina,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sinto que a lua se fechou, os raios reflectem solidão,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">rasgando os céus, e caindo em pó, que se dissipa com o vento,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Sou um ser diferente, ser que pecou sem saber,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">ser que escreve sem saber <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ler</span>,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Ser que chora, sem poder sonhar,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"> coração ferido,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">olho</span> à minha volta e sinto o pensamento vazio,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">que se entorna pela alma,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">caindo em lágrimas, que rolam pela face,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">desgastada pela dor.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Perdão, peço perdão,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">e sonho, ou tento sonhar, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">um dia poder voltar a sorrir,</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;">sorrir sem chorar...</span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4667131917260254699.post-18407066160475313792010-07-01T12:37:00.002+01:002010-07-01T13:49:59.343+01:00<div align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2hCTZOLZsoUcbhVfmwlRX6LCEmaVkOnGrW9_QQcQALue_LLooOH73C1e8cXSmcr93_djj6UN9lygoKMrCyeqp3nmhSKf6zFryv4QxTSJZ4iLxTC0nkuHHegnMf9vloKBcQluEfWIpp5O/s1600/amor_prazer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5488913565485010866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 294px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju2hCTZOLZsoUcbhVfmwlRX6LCEmaVkOnGrW9_QQcQALue_LLooOH73C1e8cXSmcr93_djj6UN9lygoKMrCyeqp3nmhSKf6zFryv4QxTSJZ4iLxTC0nkuHHegnMf9vloKBcQluEfWIpp5O/s320/amor_prazer.jpg" border="0" /></a>
<div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">... em teu corpo, a sensualidade da passagem dos dedos que te tocam ao <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">de leve</span>,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">o arranhar nas costas, e as tuas pernas que ao meu toque se abrem, pedindo mais,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">e mais , gemes, imploras ofegante que te possua, que te penetre, mas não,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">ainda não, só os dedos te tocam, só a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">língua</span> em ti vagueia e te penetra, enquanto escorres,</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">o teu <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">néctar</span> agridoce com que me deleito.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Os meus dedos procuram tua boca, tocam teus mamilos, erectos e deslizam ao encontro do teu intimo, e ai te penetram, um arrepio te percorre, soltas um gemido abafado pela minha boca que te beija, o prazer que percorre o teu corpo eleva-te do chão, vagueias no limite, estás prestes a vir, a explodir, sem consentimento te penetro com meu membro, soltas um grito abafado pelo prazer, seguindo-se um vai vem frenético, mas compassado.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Lento e depois forte, olho-te nos olhos e beijo-te, enquanto explodimos mutuamente, de prazer.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Numa sublime amostra de afecto <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">beijamo</span>-nos com luxuria, enquanto bebemos um ultimo golo do espumante já quente mas doce. </span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">O cansaço invade os nossos corpos suados, mas ainda anestesiados pelo prazer sentido.</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;">Soltas um sorriso, ao qual respondo-te com um beijo e com carinho te digo que te adoro...</span></div><div align="justify"><span style="color:#ff0000;"></span> </div></div>Flowhearthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13668077438187577563noreply@blogger.com2