maybe heaven

under this grey surburban sky
if you want to stay and watch life
passing by as you watch a procession
that parades along the boulevard
from the top of your rented room with a view
then forget me, please do!

I will go down and walk
I will be a thousand feet beating on the ground
I will be the hot asphalt under the Sun
I will be the wildflower growing between the cracks
I'll be the road for a short meanwhile
and then disappear, such a great fear
and only salvation at the same time
maybe heaven
childish moans
of life

Marco Bo