equal, all made in the same breath
same path, destiny
writers are on the same street, own blood on the head
same stars
same sky
our stories are always the same then
that our children are always the most beautiful. Yet we
far, we divided ... different
separated, broken, corrupted by money in war ...
from things from matter
from power
theorize moral, new philosophies or
us talk of the past
are terrible, cruel and miserable
yet big and tall and then sublime
us scriviam songs and
sappiam not sing
us scriviam
poems and not able to say that we
scriviam prayers
We're not sure but we pray that
scacciam brothers
us ... we like Cain Abel.
share the pitch and
We're not sure that it is our
which is the same
us who are body
us who are the soul
us the intellect that we are nothing
Giandiego Marigo
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