under this grey suburban sky
years and years digging and draining and going down into the bowels of yourself and of the universe
searching for the right verses to chant emotions and revolutions….
and then suddenly like a slap in the face that brings you back to light, back to life,
here comes simplicity
simplicity
of those who are not afraid to hear the wails of the world
and to sing their fragile verses
semplicity
the one that bears the scars of years without turbulence
and the one of those with smooth skin
like water of a river that gently,
aware that right there it will arrive, flows down to the sea
simplicity
of those who arrived on the scene only by a moment
and nothing pretended in return and everything have to give
since of the limits of their own,
fear or shame
still they do not know
Marco Bo
years and years digging and draining and going down into the bowels of yourself and of the universe
searching for the right verses to chant emotions and revolutions….
and then suddenly like a slap in the face that brings you back to light, back to life,
here comes simplicity
simplicity
of those who are not afraid to hear the wails of the world
and to sing their fragile verses
semplicity
the one that bears the scars of years without turbulence
and the one of those with smooth skin
like water of a river that gently,
aware that right there it will arrive, flows down to the sea
simplicity
of those who arrived on the scene only by a moment
and nothing pretended in return and everything have to give
since of the limits of their own,
fear or shame
still they do not know
Marco Bo
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