domingo, 20 de fevereiro de 2011

A poem about a little kind of a Joker called Love

Confronting solitude
can be not so hard
if only you consider
love not a missing card.

Maybe the one you have just
forgotten on your sleeve:
you could have used it
but you prefered not to believe

you still had the chance.
But not for the risk you couldn’t tame,
as, like Amy Winehouse’s
Love is a losing game,

you knew you’d miss it anyway.
No! Love is completely available
for an undetermined move
anyone anytime can handle.

So in a mess of a solitude
imagine yourself a little gambler,
you  can’t have ever full hands
but remains this kind of a Joker

you must remember to put at stake
in a play no one couldn’t refrain
not because there is nothing to lose
but hard a necessity to gain.

by Guilherme Preger

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