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african american poetry

senza sosta
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
non giri la vostra testa
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
glass-blower di tempo
in tutte le cose non parlate di
dicami piů di meno o dicami di piů
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
il sole ha fatto un passo giů dal suo throne dorato
diami la fame
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
nei loro regimentals ragged
vi ricordate di
l'alba era verde mela

 



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