A traveller’s poem

Covered faces, cold skies and undiscovered places

Loud music and confused words

A brown leather bag. Don’t you write better with the music in your head?

Sea is far away but Christmas is welcome. You are traveling and music goes on and on

The night is often sad because you have a lot to think about

through the window you see stars and planets shine and color your mind.

When did you give yourself such a relaxing moment for the last time?

So, watching the sky you think no one is ever glad on this world.

Lamps lamps lamps. In the night all is so inspiring. Could that be a fabric or a house or even a bicycle, all that matters is that around it a shadow of question shows itself.

Tunnels, streets and traffic lights

Stop it stop it stop it, the train eats too fast and the tiger drives with so much anger.

Keep on, music gets better and better.

Write write and write again

Is it because you desire to escape, and to try again something completely different as you did once?

Luggages, bags hanged there and pockets, full of feelings and expectations

neither money, paper or any kind of explanation.

An infinite travel towards the one that we all call the musical of happiness.

Not a shout either a shoot

Just peace

Is that really so difficult to reach?

Shouldn’t we overcome this question with an answer of love?

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