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Coming back home

I was the prodigal son who returned
I was never picked up from the airport
My silence was patient
I was the bus passenger who fell asleep
I walked to the cemetery
I got what I wished for
I was the black sheep
I always woke up before my destination
I wait for the dead
I don't wait for other people's kindness
I fly away to get closer to myself

Details

Author
Mateus_Ciucci_Ferreira

Created
2019-02-24 08:52:15

Views
6

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