This is the English version of: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/06/22/poesiaporte-chiuse/
To these closed doors.
Which most likely,
they will stay that way forever.
or rather not, I’m far away,
because I know no one would answer.
But I keep knocking,
so much fear,
that what I loved,
that what was,
never comes back.
Continua a leggere “#Poetry:”Closed Doors”.”
Click here for italian version: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/06/03/poesianon-lo-so-2/
And at the end,
you realize one thing,
which may seem terrible …
that happiness can be a lie,
that the truth is that you can never be satisfied,
that happiness is anyway,
get what you want.
And it doesn’t matter if it hurts you,
if it’s masochistic,
if it takes you too long, too long.
If you don’t though,
it’s a bit like lying to yourself,
looking for happiness in what you don’t really want.
Maybe it’s better to be a “masochist”,
embracing something full of thorns,
rather than creating some false happiness.
Now the dreams I hold them tight in my hand,
in the drawer, they might find them,
when I leave the house.
Continua a leggere “#Poetry:”What I want”.”