Alexandra Maia

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Who is Alexandra Maia?

Focusing your life solely on making a buck shows a poverty of ambition. It asks too little of yourself. And it will leave you unfulfilled. ..

  • Phone Number *** - **** 4473
  • E-Mailsaddog159***@******.***
  • Birthday31 August 1982
  • Educationescola municipal monteiro lobato - Formação geral
  • Address Hof van Orleans No: 4473
  • CitySint-Maartensdijk
  • CountryNetherlands

Alexandra Maia Online Statistics

Alexandra Maia have a 40 following and 112 followers. Alexandra Maia's world rankings is 177646. This page is based on Alexandra Maia's online data & informations. You can find information birth date, place of residence, phone number, address and social media accounts on Alexandra Maia's page.


About Alexandra Maia

O futuro pertence àqueles que acreditam na beleza de seus sonhos.
Eu sou o tudo.Eu sou o Nada.
Sou os livros que li,os momentos que passei,eu sou os brinquedos que brinquei,e os amigos que conquistei.Sou o amor que dei,e os amores que tive,as viagens que fiz,e os esportes que pratiquei.Sou minha matéria preferida,minha comida predileta,essa sou mesma,será que vais entender? Sou o ódio resguardado,sou os sonhos realizados,os objetivos alcançados.Eu sou o meu interior,mas tambem meu exterior.Sou um conjuntos de fatores que voce não pode entender.Sou a saudade,os abraços que ja dei,eu sou o passado,mas tambem o presente e o futuros,sou os meus atos.
Sou o perfeito,Mas tambem sou o imperfeito. Sou o contraste e a contradição.Sou a complexidade do mundo.

A man stands before me with fear in his eyes.
He seems prepared to reveal a surprise.
His cheeks are lined in strong definition.
His jaw is set; he's on a mission.
I know that I've seen this man before.
But remembering where is such a chore.
His basic features are blond and blue.
But that's common enough; I know that's true.
His nose is straight and rightly aligned.
His hands mimic a helpless design.
Grains of stubble mark his face.
They make him look older and out of place.
He turns around and he disappears,
But I caught a glance of his listening ear.
I know he would listen if given the task,
But instead, I just watch as he turns back.
Indeed I've seen this man in the past.
All I need to do is ask.
But as I open my mouth to speak,
His lips tremble and he looks so bleak.
I'm afraid to tell him I don't know who he is.
He seems so frail; he might die in a fizz.
So I stare in his eyes and I see his mind.
Turmoil and longing are all that I find.
Tears fill his eyes as I gaze in,
And I see on his face, he can never win.
The saline drops cleanse his face.
I want to solace him with an embrace.
He looks so sad but I don't know why.
Inside myself, I urge to cry.
I close my eyes in a weary state
Trying to envision this poor man's fate.
He turns his head down to see the floor,
Curious, I look too, but I see nothing more.
His eyes trace the lines of the discolored tiles
While his hands touch his clothes that are out of style.
I feel pity for this man whom I do not know.
He then holds his hands up to ease my woe.
A weak smile tells me he'll be fine,
So I smile in response and straighten my spine.
He takes my lead and bolsters his back,
His hands smooth his shirt to remove the slack.
Then he offers me his hand in gratitude,
So I reach into his solitude.
But there is a wall through which my hand cannot pass.
When I look again, I see the mirrored glass.

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The ant always falls over on its right side when intoxicated...

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