equal, all made in the same breath
same path, destiny
writers are on the same street, the same blood
same stars on the head
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 into war ...
corrupted by money from the things of 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 not sing sappiam
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.
We share the pace and
We're not sure that it is our
which is the same
us that we are the body
us who are the soul
us the intellect that we are nothing
Giandiego Marigo
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