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suicide poetry

il giorno è fatto
pensieri tramite la mia testa
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
alti pareti ed enorme
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
ed il mio nome è sincero
portimi la canzone morbida
non rimanga nient'altro
dal pavimento al soffitto
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
glooms delle viv-quercie
ho visto la prima pera
siete bei e sbiaditi

 



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