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romantic poetry

dolce e forte
non dal mondo largo di tutto
era un oysterman giovane alto
che cosa era esso i motori detti
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
le tonalità della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
una foschia stava guidando giù
quindi non posso
fiori dei bambini
era una bellezza nei giorni
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi

 



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