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writing poetry

agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
come come le stelle č questo il bianco, facce nameless
il dolce con il fern ed č aumentato
come esso
li ho sentiti nella notte
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle
bello
sotto la luna della raccolta
uno con voi

 



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