A thousand dreams, I think
A thousand hopes, I imagine
in my complex
Hold out a hand
Now I don't sleep and I don't eat
I only wait to be thinner
My life closed in a folder
as blue as the tears on the ground
it would be better to get lost in the sound
Every drop falls, doesn't it?
they repeat it to me
but it doesn't make sense
Dramatic
nice
it doesn't satisfy me
Does it mean anything?
You come, you go, you run and you return
at this point I stop counting the days I burn
STAI LEGGENDO
Poetry
PoetryGli anni sono lassi di tempo così relativi da farmi dubitare della loro esistenza. Guardo il mondo che va avanti da dietro una finestra e mi chiedo se sia possibile definirlo "anno" un periodo fermo ad una scrivania. Probabilmente no, però "Poetry"...
