29 marzo, 2011

Is it obsessive
wearing a black hat and compulsively smoke cigarrette after cigarrette just because you feel as Rick in the middle of a strange city?

Is it obsessive
trying to fly en the swap of the word 'w-i-n-d", looking for fire in a butterfly, or writing the same poem every Fall with a mountain of rotten leaves?

Is it obsessive
wondering who I am and, at the same time, wasting my days improving my own disguise?

Is it obsessive
believing in no faith with the conviction I'll eventually find out any meaning in the eyes of a little familiar unknown?

Is it obsessive
being lost when your life is solved?
asking always for something more?
feeling cold?


Isn't it obsessive
passing through when you come across a...


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