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I am sentimental, I am a poet,
I cry in the shadows, in the stillness,
when a melody, subtle, discreet,
embraces my soul with its latitude.
In the dark night, the moon besieges me,
distant horizons seek my voice,
in each chord, life is a wound,
bleeding in the verses of an old goodbye.
I'm a dreamer clinging to the sky,
each stanza is an echo, a sincere mourning,
in the air float my wounded desires.
I am sentimental, with an open soul,
I live in the notes of a world without end,
every cry is a song, life is certain,
and in every tear, the garden blooms.