<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4NR3o6cSp7ImA9WhRUEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758</id><updated>2012-01-21T18:16:36.419-02:00</updated><category term="Acrósticos" /><category term="Frases Emprestadas" /><category term="Textos Emprestados" /><category term="Prosa poética" /><category term="Dez/2008" /><category term="Fatos e Histórias reais" /><category term="Cartas" /><category term="Poetizando" /><category term="Sentimentos" /><category term="Poetas e Escritores" /><category term="Apresentação" /><category term="Obscene expression" /><category term="Letras - Músicas de Piscianos" /><category term="Cronicas" /><title>Aos Filhos de Peixes</title><subtitle type="html">O Peixe é um animal que enxerga prá frente e prá trás...
Anda na vertical e na horizontal...
Hoje está vendo pela direita, amanhã pela esquerda, depois por cima e por baixo.
As pessoas do signo de peixes se dão o direito de mudar conforme estão sentindo a situação.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://walspace.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://walspace.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>79</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/AosFilhosDePeixes" /><feedburner:info uri="aosfilhosdepeixes" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EFQHw5fip7ImA9WhZSE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6182313212374749823</id><published>2011-03-28T17:53:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T17:53:31.226-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-28T17:53:31.226-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Textos Emprestados" /><title>Anjos de uma asa</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6182313212374749823?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6182313212374749823?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/j1km5CBXKm8/anjos-de-uma-asa.html" title="Anjos de uma asa" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TuCSjs3vZSI/TZD08Pn09SI/AAAAAAAAASE/Cc5bhxHwSkw/s72-c/fada_das_estrelas_madelou.gif" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">O Anjo de uma Asa




Um dia um anjo ajoelhou-se aos pés de Deus e falou: “Senhor, visitei toda sua criação. Fui a todos os cantos. Estive em todos os lugares. Vi e fiz parte de todas as coisas. E por isso vim até o senhor para tentar entender. Por que cada uma das pessoas sobre a terra tem apenas uma asa? Nós anjos temos duas. Podemos ir até o amor que o senhor representa sempre que desejarmos. 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7WqIrNLxb4tID0tZWG94otXb4dU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7WqIrNLxb4tID0tZWG94otXb4dU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7WqIrNLxb4tID0tZWG94otXb4dU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7WqIrNLxb4tID0tZWG94otXb4dU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/j1km5CBXKm8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2011/03/anjos-de-uma-asa.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YER3w7fip7ImA9Wx5RE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-2814548559057469694</id><published>2010-08-20T21:05:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T21:05:06.206-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-20T21:05:06.206-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><title>TRIBUTO A UM CÃO</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2814548559057469694?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2814548559057469694?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/FX3r8OWkAKA/tributo-um-cao.html" title="TRIBUTO A UM CÃO" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/TG8X8-GHLHI/AAAAAAAAARg/JmioMZqsLgw/s72-c/milisala.bmp" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Tributo a um cão



"... O mais altruísta dos amigos que um homem pode ter neste mundo egoísta, aquele que nunca o abandona e nunca mostra ingratidão ou deslealdade, é o cão".


"Senhores Jurados, o cão permanece com o seu dono na prosperidade e na pobreza, na saúde e na doença. Ele dormirá no chão frio, onde os ventos invernais sopram e a neve se lança impetuosamente. Quando só ele estiver ao 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agHBWvZ_gIaR-aVMyKMMeZDg5Kw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agHBWvZ_gIaR-aVMyKMMeZDg5Kw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agHBWvZ_gIaR-aVMyKMMeZDg5Kw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/agHBWvZ_gIaR-aVMyKMMeZDg5Kw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/FX3r8OWkAKA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/08/tributo-um-cao.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkMASHY4cCp7ImA9Wx5RE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-7816803359326746630</id><published>2010-08-20T20:54:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T20:54:09.838-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-20T20:54:09.838-03:00</app:edited><title /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7816803359326746630?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7816803359326746630?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/8DHJcAWUudA/alguem-me-chamou-de-anjo.html" title="" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/TG8VZ431QUI/AAAAAAAAARY/tY-PX_CgIrg/s72-c/angelimage001.gif" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">

Alguem me chamou de ANJO

&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ElD__TUu0GGmboRefBwRmt4WXsM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ElD__TUu0GGmboRefBwRmt4WXsM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ElD__TUu0GGmboRefBwRmt4WXsM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ElD__TUu0GGmboRefBwRmt4WXsM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/8DHJcAWUudA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/08/alguem-me-chamou-de-anjo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUESX8yfip7ImA9Wx5RE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-2089782376673804200</id><published>2010-08-20T20:50:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-08-20T20:50:08.196-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-08-20T20:50:08.196-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cartas" /><title>MILLIE</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2089782376673804200?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2089782376673804200?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/kN4w0PdCQdg/millie.html" title="MILLIE" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/TG8TvzSFPaI/AAAAAAAAARQ/0DzmVddS8wc/s72-c/MILI4.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">
Obrigada amiguinha:
Por me fazer companhia 11 anosPor me dar tantos sorrisosPor conversar tanto comigo, latindoPor me tirar da tristezaPor me chamar atenção quando estava ocupada
Perdoa amiguinha
Por ter te deixado adoecerPor ter te deixado nas mãos de alguem que não souber te salvarPor te deixar só quando foi embora
Mas eu não aguentaria te ver ir embora e voce não iria tranquila
Cuida de mim, 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yBPNphOOT24XGWzVFDfb50K9W4A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yBPNphOOT24XGWzVFDfb50K9W4A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yBPNphOOT24XGWzVFDfb50K9W4A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/yBPNphOOT24XGWzVFDfb50K9W4A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/kN4w0PdCQdg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/08/millie.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYMRH87fip7ImA9WxFTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6085775531468357659</id><published>2010-03-31T23:16:00.000-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T23:16:25.106-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-31T23:16:25.106-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><title>As lições que aprendi</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6085775531468357659?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6085775531468357659?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/Y-unFXR5Wnw/as-licoes-que-aprendi.html" title="As lições que aprendi" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Desculpem os hipócritas de plantão, mas plagiar coisas boas é uma prática muito antiga e vale a pena tentar.

Há pessoas que precisam de mil páginas para relacionar os relacionamentos, sejam eles de amizade, de um  caso passageiro, de um namoro, de um amor, de um coleguismo...tudo isso são relacionamentos e deixam lembranças, marcas, lições....

Eu preciso de algumas linhas, bem...ao menos não 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SVY3eqm0FbmV4bl8AIzkUdaxMkc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SVY3eqm0FbmV4bl8AIzkUdaxMkc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SVY3eqm0FbmV4bl8AIzkUdaxMkc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/SVY3eqm0FbmV4bl8AIzkUdaxMkc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/Y-unFXR5Wnw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/03/as-licoes-que-aprendi.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUCQHc9fyp7ImA9WhZSE0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-405443309040288927</id><published>2010-02-15T22:55:00.004-02:00</published><updated>2011-03-28T18:04:21.967-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-03-28T18:04:21.967-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Apresentação" /><title>ENQUETE</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/405443309040288927?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/405443309040288927?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/-OjsQ55ENno/no-meu-tempo-isso-era-enquete.html" title="ENQUETE" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Nome/Apelido: Wal 


Ascendência? italiana e espanhola... européia no sangue


Cor favorita: verde, verde, todos os tons 


Sexo: âhhhh ???


Data de aniversário: 03/03/19xx - números cabalísticos 


Qual seu signo? Peixes , a missão mais importante 


Ascendente? pisciana - sagitário


Nasceu em que dia da semana: quinta-feira (de cinzas....após o carnaval)


Idade: enta???...xiii digamos...
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8cfxgCAMeOEDp0mxFaPNHwh4NTs/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8cfxgCAMeOEDp0mxFaPNHwh4NTs/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8cfxgCAMeOEDp0mxFaPNHwh4NTs/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/8cfxgCAMeOEDp0mxFaPNHwh4NTs/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/-OjsQ55ENno" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/02/no-meu-tempo-isso-era-enquete.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UASHg9eCp7ImA9WxBXGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-4620728406368526578</id><published>2010-01-29T23:34:00.000-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T23:34:09.660-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-29T23:34:09.660-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><title>I´m waiting ...for nothing !</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/4620728406368526578?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/4620728406368526578?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/XYWA7aHf3H8/im-waiting-for-nothing.html" title="I´m waiting ...for nothing !" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/S2OMWDaHs-I/AAAAAAAAAQA/DaqvRoI3PNU/s72-c/aurora-boreal.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Waiting...não há rima, palavra fria, sem brilho, sem sombra....o que mais é esperado ?
Segue com pressa, divide com a força invisível todos seus sonhos.
Ela fará sua parte, seu desígnio celeste, seja como for ou compor.
Tenha a letra e a melodia que tiver

Hoje...é agora..momento ...registro e extase de  horas de espera.
À procura da libertação, de laços e amarras forjados pela ilusão de 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JK82W2YpFSwR1TuE6c7jR5htv2A/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JK82W2YpFSwR1TuE6c7jR5htv2A/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JK82W2YpFSwR1TuE6c7jR5htv2A/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/JK82W2YpFSwR1TuE6c7jR5htv2A/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/XYWA7aHf3H8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/01/im-waiting-for-nothing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEGR3w-eSp7ImA9WxBXGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6789345676308537239</id><published>2010-01-29T23:22:00.001-02:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T23:23:46.251-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-29T23:23:46.251-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><title>Excesso dos demais !</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6789345676308537239?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6789345676308537239?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/w-ESxgpl174/exigir-demais-e-excesso-excesso-de.html" title="Excesso dos demais !" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/S2OJi_pnhhI/AAAAAAAAAP4/nIzKi3v8iH4/s72-c/1120075893.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Exigir demais é excesso
Excesso de lamento
Excesso de esperança

Esperamos demais, nos decepcionamos demais
Fiz o que pude, não vou me culpar
Tentei num último esforço
Tateei o sucesso com dedos úmidos
A folha fina se despedaça...ao leve suor das mãos 
que tremeram pelo dia que poderiam descansar  em paz
e agora gelam na procura de serem preenchidas

Dizem que o maior esforço deve ser deixado 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4qzF8VH4BIrJUuc-fb-FPqjVADE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4qzF8VH4BIrJUuc-fb-FPqjVADE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4qzF8VH4BIrJUuc-fb-FPqjVADE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4qzF8VH4BIrJUuc-fb-FPqjVADE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/w-ESxgpl174" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2010/01/exigir-demais-e-excesso-excesso-de.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkYBQXg7cSp7ImA9WxBVEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6711081779149849647</id><published>2009-09-19T17:04:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T18:09:10.609-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-14T18:09:10.609-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Sentimentos" /><title>Dias...e dias...e dias....</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6711081779149849647?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6711081779149849647?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/5X-6psRQHWM/esperando.html" title="Dias...e dias...e dias...." /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/S3hYKIBD8RI/AAAAAAAAAQo/jJM_vBgTEsU/s72-c/20081109220034772.gif" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">A cada minuto que passa, me desencanto mais pelo mundo
A cada minuto que passo a esperar por nem sei o que, me desiludo e me perco em lágrimas

A cada hora o tempo parece infinito, por dor e por desencanto
A cada hora me pergunto: até quando ?

A cada dia o espaço parece maior, e me sinto um grão no meio da imensidão
A cada dia que passa espero pelo fim

O fim da dor, o fim da espera, o fim dos 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YtVn1qm6UJuHXa4Tjsc0_nd7chU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YtVn1qm6UJuHXa4Tjsc0_nd7chU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YtVn1qm6UJuHXa4Tjsc0_nd7chU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YtVn1qm6UJuHXa4Tjsc0_nd7chU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/5X-6psRQHWM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/09/esperando.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIMQ3s9fSp7ImA9WxNRGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6181681730284916985</id><published>2009-09-14T01:41:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T01:46:22.565-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-14T01:46:22.565-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fatos e Histórias reais" /><title>Desencanta</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6181681730284916985?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6181681730284916985?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/MEdo7Qw5_M4/desencanta.html" title="Desencanta" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Pessoas são estranhas, pessoas são um mundo inascessível, pessoas magoam pessoas, pessoas nem siquer se importam com isso, pessoas não valem a pena, pessoas só pensam em si mesmas.E ainda cobram das outras pessoas o reconhecimento, o carinho e a atenção.PESSOAS SÃO LIXOPESSOAS SÃO PODRESPESSOAS NOS ENGANAME NOS ENGANAMOS COM AS PESSOAS !!!!!!Adeus a todas as pessoas, me retiro deste mundo imundo 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zr2rGPTeMPPfTiSahACOYaQf7RY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zr2rGPTeMPPfTiSahACOYaQf7RY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zr2rGPTeMPPfTiSahACOYaQf7RY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/zr2rGPTeMPPfTiSahACOYaQf7RY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/MEdo7Qw5_M4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/09/desencanta.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0IGR307eyp7ImA9WxNRGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6116285162941869804</id><published>2009-09-13T15:52:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T16:18:46.303-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-13T16:18:46.303-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fatos e Histórias reais" /><title>ESPELHO</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6116285162941869804?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6116285162941869804?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/PyRau_Nr6kk/espelho.html" title="ESPELHO" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Completamente imatura em certos assuntos,nada me faz aprender, crescer, amadurecer por mais que tente e me canseAlgumas vezes, acreditei ter superado mas a cruel realidade me mostrou seu contrário perene.Conheci e me encantei por homens comprometidos, por canalhas, por inatingíveis, por homens bons mas que não me amavam, e de cada um guardo a lembrança e a lição daquilo que quero e que não quero 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUei8zJ6Nbs_8Mo75e5w3A3y4vQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUei8zJ6Nbs_8Mo75e5w3A3y4vQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUei8zJ6Nbs_8Mo75e5w3A3y4vQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UUei8zJ6Nbs_8Mo75e5w3A3y4vQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/PyRau_Nr6kk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/09/espelho.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4BSHszfip7ImA9WxNRGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-276860544580734073</id><published>2009-08-26T22:21:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T13:55:59.586-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-13T13:55:59.586-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fatos e Histórias reais" /><title>A Força de Uma Amizade</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/276860544580734073?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/276860544580734073?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/SiPvUzeKZGQ/forca-de-uma-amizade.html" title="A Força de Uma Amizade" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">A força de uma amizade vence todas as diferençasAliás, prá que diferenças se existe amizade?Quando erramos...nos perdoamos e esquecemosSe tivermos defeitos, não nos importamos...Trocamos segredos, respeitamos nossas opiniõesTemos divergências, elas são debatidas às clarasNas horas incertas, chegamos no momento certoNos amparamos, nos defendemos.......e nos alegramos fazendo issoNos reverenciamos,
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iLplWiQ0ZoUfrUNpZgbISTcthUM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iLplWiQ0ZoUfrUNpZgbISTcthUM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iLplWiQ0ZoUfrUNpZgbISTcthUM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/iLplWiQ0ZoUfrUNpZgbISTcthUM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/SiPvUzeKZGQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/08/forca-de-uma-amizade.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkUGQHwzeip7ImA9WxFTEEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-8152078708276470338</id><published>2009-08-04T23:11:00.006-03:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T22:10:21.282-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-03-31T22:10:21.282-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetizando" /><title>Abismo</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/8152078708276470338?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/8152078708276470338?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/xQx7gKi3808/abismo.html" title="Abismo" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/SpXqAD3x0YI/AAAAAAAAAOM/NUiRh0AzOFI/s72-c/1120075893.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">
Sou a pessoa de valor, a mulher de fibra que desfibra-se em teias
Na maturidade necessária para escolher o rumo ou o atalho, nos escuros becos da vida
Conquisto sózinha minhas vitórias e perdas
Conquisto a moradia, o conhecimento do profundo azul do abismo

Saudável és...o corpo que trabalha com amor e dedicação
São e salvo, o pensamento, o suor noturno e o pesar do conflito
Desde quando se 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C5euJhY4UcmL-hcewuHto4jkcHY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C5euJhY4UcmL-hcewuHto4jkcHY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C5euJhY4UcmL-hcewuHto4jkcHY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/C5euJhY4UcmL-hcewuHto4jkcHY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/xQx7gKi3808" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/08/abismo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cNQnk9eCp7ImA9WxJaEUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6159966521904848274</id><published>2009-08-01T22:59:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T23:44:53.760-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-08-01T23:44:53.760-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Fatos e Histórias reais" /><title>O que aprendi com meus erros.</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6159966521904848274?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6159966521904848274?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/7wn3-jjjy7o/o-que-aprendi-com-meus-erros.html" title="O que aprendi com meus erros." /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">É complicado dizer da decepção que um projeto não concretizado traz prá genteAcreditamos em tantas forças externas, que nos empurram prá frente no objetivo de realizaçãoE, num piscar de olhos, essas mesmas forças, enterram, soterram, devastam...sem deixar poeira mas deixando lágrimas na alma antes cheia de esperança.É complicado falar do tempo que não passa, dos ponteiros do relógio que não se 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7Y64wfSk5w4bjmeCz1KuKYOOmU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7Y64wfSk5w4bjmeCz1KuKYOOmU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7Y64wfSk5w4bjmeCz1KuKYOOmU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/H7Y64wfSk5w4bjmeCz1KuKYOOmU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/7wn3-jjjy7o" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/08/o-que-aprendi-com-meus-erros.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUNQXo6cSp7ImA9WxJbEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-1420513874982982453</id><published>2009-07-20T21:29:00.001-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-20T21:31:30.419-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-20T21:31:30.419-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetas e Escritores" /><title>Chaplin</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/1420513874982982453?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/1420513874982982453?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/M3ZJZq2JHvo/chaplin.html" title="Chaplin" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">(Charles Chaplin - O PENSADOR)Já perdoei erros quase imperdoáveis, (*)tentei substituir pessoas insubstituíveise esquecer pessoas inesquecíveis.Já fiz coisas por impulso,já me decepcionei com pessoas quando nunca pensei me decepcionar, mas também decepcionei alguém.Já abracei pra proteger,já dei risada quando não podia,fiz amigos eternos,amei e fui amado,mas também já fui rejeitado,fui amado e 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UHc1kimL2iVYclrrGP0j12k7pgc/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UHc1kimL2iVYclrrGP0j12k7pgc/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UHc1kimL2iVYclrrGP0j12k7pgc/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/UHc1kimL2iVYclrrGP0j12k7pgc/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/M3ZJZq2JHvo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/07/chaplin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQDRX4-fCp7ImA9WxJUF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-3666314024383799284</id><published>2009-07-15T22:16:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T22:22:54.054-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-07-15T22:22:54.054-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Poetizando" /><title>NX</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/3666314024383799284?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/3666314024383799284?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/2yNJ-yz7gEQ/nx.html" title="NX" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Saudade do que nunca fuiDo tempo que era melhor, que era completa, que era....Nada prá ouvir, duvidar, ignorar ou simplesmente serSaudade é fera, é rua, é estrada nuaDos passos mal dados, tropeços e deslizesDas próprias mãos tocando o nada, o tudo que feito prá nósSaudade de voce, sem querer, sem iludirDas horas de morte e vidaDos segundos imensos e horas em flashOnde está ? em algum ponto 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvlKdY-Fax9_mq8sMuaa1fnrbWk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvlKdY-Fax9_mq8sMuaa1fnrbWk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvlKdY-Fax9_mq8sMuaa1fnrbWk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/tvlKdY-Fax9_mq8sMuaa1fnrbWk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/2yNJ-yz7gEQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/07/nx.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04MQXY7fSp7ImA9WxBXF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-7037138341834908019</id><published>2009-05-31T12:43:00.005-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T22:46:20.805-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-28T22:46:20.805-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Acrósticos" /><title>IMPROVERS</title><link rel="related" href="http://www.improvers.com.br" title="IMPROVERS" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7037138341834908019?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7037138341834908019?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/zN8YsQ9HJa8/improvers.html" title="IMPROVERS" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/S0-4EZ1oScI/AAAAAAAAAOY/vMtf8GUD-WA/s72-c/logo+alterado.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">I mpossível ter sido diferente
M ais que uma simples coincidência
P rova concreta de afinidade, de amizade
R azão para a conquista dos sonhos
O u mesmo da realização deles
V ivemos distantes por tanto tempo
E ntre o tempo que nos separa e
R espostas que sempre buscamos,
S intonia realizada que nos aproxima e nos une.
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kOkT6Bi5VkLMyGSDDsqM7M05Nvw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kOkT6Bi5VkLMyGSDDsqM7M05Nvw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kOkT6Bi5VkLMyGSDDsqM7M05Nvw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/kOkT6Bi5VkLMyGSDDsqM7M05Nvw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/zN8YsQ9HJa8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/05/improvers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIMR34-fCp7ImA9WxBTFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-3355414839566245691</id><published>2009-05-24T19:46:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-12-12T23:43:06.054-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-12-12T23:43:06.054-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cronicas" /><title>Será ?</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/3355414839566245691?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/3355414839566245691?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/oCCtI68vVOI/sera.html" title="Será ?" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Desta vez consiguirei ?

É tão dificil realizar-se, dizem que precisamos de muito suor, muito esforço, muita sorte !

Sorte é uma palavra iluminada e sonora....mas quantas vezes dela nos apossamos ? 

Quantas vezes na vida
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PreNc7sdS2LC7S9c4mmi2n3Icok/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PreNc7sdS2LC7S9c4mmi2n3Icok/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PreNc7sdS2LC7S9c4mmi2n3Icok/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PreNc7sdS2LC7S9c4mmi2n3Icok/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/oCCtI68vVOI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/05/sera.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D08GQHk6eSp7ImA9WxBXF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-7457987625783273070</id><published>2009-04-14T22:12:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T22:43:41.711-02:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-01-28T22:43:41.711-02:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cronicas" /><title>UM OLHAR ANIMAL</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7457987625783273070?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7457987625783273070?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/AnpGHXp1g_s/um-olhar-animal.html" title="UM OLHAR ANIMAL" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Com o que comparar o olhar de um animal ?
Ao olhar de um bebê ?
Não..um bebê olha buscando a sua fonte de alimentação...os seios da mãe

Ao olhar de uma criança ?
Não...a criança tem olhos curiosos para o mundo
Busca resposta para as primeiras perguntas da sua vida.

Ao olhar de um adolescente ?
Não...o adolescente olha seu caminho na vida
Por suas experiencias a serem realizadas, suas conquistas
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0QDRwOOu3sqah94e2hN-STovWY8/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0QDRwOOu3sqah94e2hN-STovWY8/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0QDRwOOu3sqah94e2hN-STovWY8/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/0QDRwOOu3sqah94e2hN-STovWY8/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/AnpGHXp1g_s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/04/um-olhar-animal.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck4CSHc8eyp7ImA9WxVbGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-4327701271121221445</id><published>2009-04-03T20:28:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-04-05T16:49:29.973-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-04-05T16:49:29.973-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Prosa poética" /><title>PENSAMENTO</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/4327701271121221445?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/4327701271121221445?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/kHkOwRyxZ0w/pensamento.html" title="PENSAMENTO" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">No que não acredito, é tudo que por mais que me incomode, realiza-seNo que não penso, é tudo aquilo que se faz real e insistente na memóriaO que não comento, é o assunto do diaO que não vejo, está revelado nos olhos que observoPor acreditar, me perco nas palavrasPor ignorar, me assusta o resultadoPor querer, ignoro que acredito no instante mágico.Esperar é um dom, uma circunstância insubstituível
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gzn3jG1l0Bapanso-nKUyd3RPUY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gzn3jG1l0Bapanso-nKUyd3RPUY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gzn3jG1l0Bapanso-nKUyd3RPUY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Gzn3jG1l0Bapanso-nKUyd3RPUY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/kHkOwRyxZ0w" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/04/pensamento.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QHQns5eyp7ImA9WxVUF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-6504351283294721338</id><published>2009-03-22T14:49:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T15:08:53.523-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-22T15:08:53.523-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Textos Emprestados" /><title>PARA MULHER COM MAIS DE 30</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6504351283294721338?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/6504351283294721338?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/4tsHv6VV36M/para-mulher-com-mais-de-30.html" title="PARA MULHER COM MAIS DE 30" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/ScZ-n_3NAAI/AAAAAAAAANE/3k0A-55GsNM/s72-c/images.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Isto é para as mulheres de 30 anos pra cima…E para todas aquelas que estão entrando nos 30,e para todas aquelas que estão com medo de entrar nos 30…E para homens que têm medo de meninas com mais de 30!!!“ A medida que envelheço, e convivo com outras,valorizo mais as mulheres que estão acima dos 30.Estas são algumas razões do porquê:- Uma mulher de 30 nunca o acordaráno meio da noite para 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-QCyz9_dvBDv-wvnd5yn8qngFeE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-QCyz9_dvBDv-wvnd5yn8qngFeE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-QCyz9_dvBDv-wvnd5yn8qngFeE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/-QCyz9_dvBDv-wvnd5yn8qngFeE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/4tsHv6VV36M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/03/para-mulher-com-mais-de-30.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8ASXc6fip7ImA9WxVUF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-9047231872575572248</id><published>2009-03-13T19:43:00.003-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T14:27:28.916-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-22T14:27:28.916-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Textos Emprestados" /><title>DESPEDIDAS</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/9047231872575572248?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/9047231872575572248?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/T61WXCTshMs/despedida-de-amigo.html" title="DESPEDIDAS" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/ScZ03uTADyI/AAAAAAAAAM0/bL8XJqUcPLE/s72-c/wicca.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Um dia a maioria de nós irá se separar,sentiremos saudades de todas as conversas jogadas fora,das descobertas que fizemos, dos sonhos que tivemos,dos tantos risos e momentos que compartilhamos,até dos momentos de lágrima, da angústia,das vésperas de finais de semana, de finais de ano,enfim...do companheirismo vivido.Sempre pensei (e desejei muito) que as amizades fossem para sempre. Hoje tenho 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qKsTTPkPh7HfovRJpyE0wjbP2sg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qKsTTPkPh7HfovRJpyE0wjbP2sg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qKsTTPkPh7HfovRJpyE0wjbP2sg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/qKsTTPkPh7HfovRJpyE0wjbP2sg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/T61WXCTshMs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/03/despedida-de-amigo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CU4ASHsycSp7ImA9WxVUF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-7566410701067842284</id><published>2009-03-07T21:31:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T14:45:49.599-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-22T14:45:49.599-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Textos Emprestados" /><title>EU TE AMO... NÃO DIZ TUDO!</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7566410701067842284?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/7566410701067842284?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/IMS9TONglo4/eu-te-amo-nao-diz-tudo.html" title="EU TE AMO... NÃO DIZ TUDO!" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_gi1Cr_bwfUU/ScZ5KF1ogZI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Q9y5RsbTRSM/s72-c/euteamonao.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><content type="html">Você sabe que é amado(a) porque lhe disseram isso?A demonstração de amor requer mais do que beijos, sexo e palavras.Sentir-se amado é sentir que a pessoa tem interesse real na sua vida,Que zela pela sua felicidade,Que se preocupa quando as coisas não estão dando certo,Que se coloca a postos para ouvir suas dúvidas,E que dá uma sacudida em você quando for preciso.Ser amado é ver que ele(a) lembra 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jGV_-k3WK9I8-rMjyW2jzXGcwzU/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jGV_-k3WK9I8-rMjyW2jzXGcwzU/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jGV_-k3WK9I8-rMjyW2jzXGcwzU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/jGV_-k3WK9I8-rMjyW2jzXGcwzU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/IMS9TONglo4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/03/eu-te-amo-nao-diz-tudo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0IBQ348fyp7ImA9WxVWGUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-5471002387880389043</id><published>2009-03-01T19:07:00.002-03:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T19:12:32.077-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-03-01T19:12:32.077-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cronicas" /><title>VERDADES QUE MACHUCAM</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/5471002387880389043?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/5471002387880389043?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/bJBPd150Vw0/verdades-que-machucam.html" title="VERDADES QUE MACHUCAM" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Existem situações nessa vida que nos mostram o que as pessoas sãoExistem pessoas que se dizem amigas, companheiras, irmãs...mas isso só é verdade quando essas pessoas precisam de algum favor da genteExistem pessoas que se apoderam do carinho que somos capazes de oferecerE usam quando lhes é conveniente...Na primeira oportunidade em que poderiam nos retribuir tanto carinho e ....favores...Ah...aí 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YUTK7DcG2YvfNRT5MiwTHnaOZes/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YUTK7DcG2YvfNRT5MiwTHnaOZes/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YUTK7DcG2YvfNRT5MiwTHnaOZes/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/YUTK7DcG2YvfNRT5MiwTHnaOZes/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/bJBPd150Vw0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/03/verdades-que-machucam.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE4NQ30zfyp7ImA9WxVWGEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-760772690257402758.post-2589663183207582663</id><published>2009-02-28T19:33:00.004-03:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T20:16:32.387-03:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-28T20:16:32.387-03:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Cronicas" /><title>MAIS UM CICLO</title><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2589663183207582663?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/760772690257402758/posts/default/2589663183207582663?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~3/-ijk753C-Uc/mais-um-ciclo.html" title="MAIS UM CICLO" /><author><name>Wal</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10195478342077242996</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="16" height="16" src="http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif" /></author><content type="html">Prestes a completar mais um anoVejo claramente a linha do tempoE tudo que ela deixou em minhas mãos, meu rosto, meus sonhosEstive tão perto do desespero que quase a ele me uniPerdi tantas oportunidadesque nem percebi quando chegaramEstive tão pouco tempo perto de pessoas especiaisque chego a pensar que elas nem existiramFrutos da fértil capacidade de criar amigos invisíveisAmores tão impossíveis 
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5MVSRIWKzrjfmgX6bYMLJTTpCHQ/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5MVSRIWKzrjfmgX6bYMLJTTpCHQ/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5MVSRIWKzrjfmgX6bYMLJTTpCHQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5MVSRIWKzrjfmgX6bYMLJTTpCHQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/AosFilhosDePeixes/~4/-ijk753C-Uc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><feedburner:origLink>http://walspace.blogspot.com/2009/02/mais-um-ciclo.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

