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Don't Think
I am who I am,
No matter what I say.
For, I talk too much
After, silencing, too much,
What I wanted to express.
Is recklessness
A symptom?
Or I, when I feel ok.
Nevertheless,
I would be fucked
On Orwell's "1984" days.
With all the ministries, surveillance,
And, hell, the thought police.
Forbidden of Love,
And its acts;
Allowed to portray
Only: what, they, think.
We are not yet there,
And wish we won't.
Unless, everyone want to be the same.
Uniformity
Brings order,
Or, imposes so.
But, Order also comes
From responsibility and
Common sense.
And sense is common
When we love ourselves
And understand that the one next,
Probably, does the same.
What matters is that: both love,
Not the physical
But, what is inside of us.
© LD Nascimento
No matter what I say.
For, I talk too much
After, silencing, too much,
What I wanted to express.
Is recklessness
A symptom?
Or I, when I feel ok.
Nevertheless,
I would be fucked
On Orwell's "1984" days.
With all the ministries, surveillance,
And, hell, the thought police.
Forbidden of Love,
And its acts;
Allowed to portray
Only: what, they, think.
We are not yet there,
And wish we won't.
Unless, everyone want to be the same.
Uniformity
Brings order,
Or, imposes so.
But, Order also comes
From responsibility and
Common sense.
And sense is common
When we love ourselves
And understand that the one next,
Probably, does the same.
What matters is that: both love,
Not the physical
But, what is inside of us.
© LD Nascimento
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