Original version here: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/04/06/poesiabisogno-di-qualcosa/
Everyone needs something:
someone needs to let themselves die,
someone needs to disappear,
someone needs a rematch,
of a second chance,
to make it, where he had failed.
There is someone who needs this, not to give up,
not to let go.
Everyone has a war to end,
a dream to come true,
going against everything and everyone.
Someone needs not to give up,
however much pain it may bring.
And I’m sick,
I don’t say it, saying that so I don’t worry,
But the truth is I don’t want anyone to break my balls
telling me that being sick is wrong …
What the fuck do you want?
My life is ruined.
Then I am taken ill regardless …
I have experienced the taste of nostalgia,
feel bad at home,
that when you are away …
Not being able to make a final choice,
on where to live.
Hope does not abandon me, it is a slow dying of obstinate survival.
I have nothing else …
And this is my story, on the one hand.