Alguns anos atrasados, tenho o quarto que sempre quis ter ao 9 anos. Acho que estou numa fase de coincidências de sonhos do passado e realidades futuras. Deixo um poema do Shel Silverstein, que coloriu a minha infância feita de casas na árvore, livros e tortas de maça.
There's a light on in the attic.
Though the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin' flutter,
And I know what it's about.
There's a light on in the attic.
I can see it from the outside,
And I know you're on the inside ... lookin' out.
Though the house is dark and shuttered,
I can see a flickerin' flutter,
And I know what it's about.
There's a light on in the attic.
I can see it from the outside,
And I know you're on the inside ... lookin' out.
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