the poison is outside of me,
there are no other people’s ideas in here.
My foolish will is in charge!
the pleasure of creating,
This is my salvation.
of who told me,
all those bad things,
it’s out of me.
Continua a leggere “#Poetry:”Detoxed””
Ita version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/05/22/poesiaunderdog-3-fin-da-bambino/
1 & 2: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/03/10/poetry-underdog/
Since I was a kid,
I’ve always been a loser.
I grew up believing that I could never win,
I’ve been an Underdog,
Since I was a kid,
have always wanted to decide others
Since I was a kid they underestimated me,
who never even looked at me,
who did not understand my state,
they just despised me.
With this idea,
that to win you have to do greater things than you,
that a beautiful girl is considered a goddess,
while you are the waste,
of a world that works badly,
sometimes it gives me a heart attack.
They tell you what you should take,
but then you discover it’s nothing,
or just crumbs.
And no matter how much you can make,
you’ll always been lost in ther commas and full stops.
Continua a leggere “#Poetry:”Underdog 3″ (Since I was a kid).”
My home is where the heart is,
my home and where I am.
My home is a heart, my heart is a home.
The heart takes me into the house, what he loves.
Even if it is not reciprocated,
but bring what you love into the house,
with his desire to hope.
My heart is sometimes a small child,
sometimes it grows, sometimes he breaks the things he loves.
Then he cries for breaking them …
Sometimes he wants to run away from himself,
but there is no real escape, since you can’t die like that.
We are shocked by our pain,
sometimes we are shocked by that of other people.
And in any case we are home, the heart is where home is.
And inside me the house is like this: a child-adult-teenager,
who is not resigned to hatred
and he loves.