giovedì 17 giugno 2010

smells like mistakes

My melancholy morning

Cuts on my finger tips
They taste like childhood.

Day after after day
I sense my stay
And I wonder where else could I be
And I wander looking for nothing to be sought

Tumbling down

A brand new life which smells like past
Bite by bite, piece by piece

On the land, on the water
Wherever I could cast my shadow.

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