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poetry for kid

la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
al lover appassionato
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
amilo in fine, o se non
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
non appenda corona
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
nel porto di nuovo York
i loro capelli bei
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
li prevedo
quale si conservare
perchè così triste mio bello?

 



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