Late Period And Mucus

Five June

This poem is dedicated to Mark, a friend of mine who died, just the five que June 2009 .
not present it that much because I believe that these alone.

Last day of school,
a shot, and you
,
trace,
a shot in the silence,
a bullet hit you,
bullet uploaded by yourself,
bullet that made you disappear from the face of the earth. Five
June,
celebrate the end of the school, which will celebrate
more
makes no sense to celebrate it,
after that day you left us
,
left in the world that, you do not
was best.
not holding my legs higher,
head that he could not think of anything else,
crying
a night out with friends,
made no sense, no sense
work
cicatrizzerà wound that does not ever
because
although sometimes
your behavior was annoying, but
,
nobody will give back those nights full of sympathy,
those evenings where
also a gesture,
was ironic,
irony with which you play well you know,
Did you know brighten up a Sunday afternoon,
you that you were never angry
,
wanted to let you all
respecting your choice, you say
,
that
I have always loved you.

What To Do If Dress Is Too Low Cut

End of Carnival

This poem is about a carnival that ends at some point, leaving one man alone.

vibrate the glass windows,
pass a cart with
Arlecchino and Pulcinella,

that greet you,

making you smile a little,

candy rain, noise
aluminum
streamers,
rain from heaven,
in line at the cart,
a parade,
children, young, old,
enhanced by the magnificent chariot
cart that contains
dreams hope and happiness.

A pigeon flies over the car,
pigeon stealing,
the hands of children,
bread crumbs,
torn away, as the speed of
Willeneuve,
's snatched away the life.

Within hours, they all go
,
is the end of Carnival,
stay alone in the street, where
,
shortly before
were surrounded by the crowd, which
, urging
Arlecchino and Pulcinella,
have forgotten
for a while,
life's problems,
end of Carnival,
return all thoughts, thoughts that
,
arrived and do not go over, you
,
you sit on the sidewalk,
with his head resting on folded arms, and
think, even if
when Godot arrives, there will still be one happy
,
you clear your mind,
end of Carnival,
remains only in the middle of a street, asking
,
if all that joy, that Godot will remain until
, you
snatch life
how those pigeons plucked the bread from the hands of children i.