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teen poetry

scuro-eyed
facce belle e tragical
uno per uno, come va da un albero
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
era l'autunno dell'anno
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
fra le montagne ho vagato
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
morbido come la base nella terra
la neve bisbiglia circa me
conosco non dove
fate non sentirsi
non posso ora dirvi

 



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