rolimã troller

On the slopes of  São Carlos
up and down  repeatedly
They carry  one  hundred time
the dust  of the ground  sticks
swety dirt
in their small and imp face
in their quick hands
dropping chords
shaking  nerves
releasing fear
falling on the slope
Does the target  travels  in a breakable  rolimã troller?
the fate  tends  to go like crazy
in a blundering  flight  on  a
breakable rolimã troller
on the slopes  of  São Carlos
in children's  wing
maybe a crazy atom
exciting many orbits
in a confident brim
and finally  precipitate
with skill  and accuracy