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my stAr

  • Barbara Emídio
  • 17 de nov. de 2025
  • 1 min de leitura

on this cold night,

missing you has never

hurt this much.


here I am again,

gazing at the stars…

wishing I could hold your hand.


and you,

sitting on a star,

watching me walk around.

there you are,

just a phantom light

glowing softly on the road ahead.


and me,

sitting here crying,

holding onto a prayer that slips through my fingers

that a god I no longer believe in will hear me beg on my knees,

so I can have you in my arms.

one

last

time.

 
 
 

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