A Lot Of Meanings
I am a person with a lot of meanings.
I can't say to you what I am.
I can't even say what I am to myself.
I see the cars passing by,
I hear the people talking,
I eat my meals according to my hunger,
I sleep because tomorrow is a brand new day.
If I know my meaning?
Certainly not.
But I know I am a perpetual one.
No need to intend, no need to secure.
Just being a perplex world of variables.
A group of words, no meaning behind it.
Maybe they together make sense,
But most probably they don't.
That's me. No other meaning.
No other meaning besides existing.
Besides being a world of words.
A mountain of feelings. Still words.
Still concepts, still meanings.
I am all that, no intend.
I see myself, I know my face,
but maybe that's all I know.
I can't say to you what I am.
I can't even say what I am to myself.
I see the cars passing by,
I hear the people talking,
I eat my meals according to my hunger,
I sleep because tomorrow is a brand new day.
If I know my meaning?
Certainly not.
But I know I am a perpetual one.
No need to intend, no need to secure.
Just being a perplex world of variables.
A group of words, no meaning behind it.
Maybe they together make sense,
But most probably they don't.
That's me. No other meaning.
No other meaning besides existing.
Besides being a world of words.
A mountain of feelings. Still words.
Still concepts, still meanings.
I am all that, no intend.
I see myself, I know my face,
but maybe that's all I know.
Photograph of Márcia Simões by Catarina Inácio
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