Peter Pan Syndrome

I feel defeat and oldness in the eyes of people.
everyone is walking slowly and bored,
like they have seen all there is to see
and all the places there are to go.
just to rational, intelectual, indiferent to beautiness.
everyone’s confortable behind they're own brick black walls,
without any sense of adventure.

No one is brave enough to remember love.
no one listens to the call of the sea, the chant of the mermaids.
no one is brave enough to raise his voice above the crowd,
to be higher than god himself, to live faster than the speed of light.
purity and magic are forgotten, no one remembers who they are.

I sware that my fire will never burn out,
ill reborn each new day,
and drink freshness from each single moment.

by André Lopes

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