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poetry for kid

tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
ma non posso ora leggerlo
scattando in su, cadendo
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
chi chiamerà il vento
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
ancora tredici anni
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
su e giù va
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
facce belle e tragical
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente

 



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