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math poem

i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
fra le montagne ho vagato
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
sto morendo
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
aumentato dai morti
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
uplifting, come il vento ha saltato
un pensiero dolce solenne
mescolisi
uno con voi

 



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