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suicide poetry

ha incurvato l'inondazione
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
osservi fuori sulle stelle, il mio amore
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
se fossi molto sicuro
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
e cosě va
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
nelle mattine nube-grige
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
dio
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piů in anticipo

 



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