Grow Back Hair Anorexia

[Poetry] Now

Title: Time
Genre: Romantic
Note: I was in class, Professor had started reading the poems of Pascoli Time Traveler, and grazing was not always like it, because are more Ungaretti, and then I started to write sentences that wander through this maze of my mind, and I have marked the title of the poetry of Pascoli and of course the first question I will examine will be on This topic XD

Now

Can you imagine forty years

rocking on the porch swing while

t'animi for a new passion

and peel an orange and you realize

I'm watching you.

Lower face

hair slide.

"Come on, murmur with grace,

"let's go inside, begins to cool, we're going to lie down

in the tent or room special

'm tired and I want to hug '

And I would cross this

to tighten the upcoming

hand I tend

and be there with you that you

hours.

Laboratory 5: Cellular Respiration Answers

[Poetry] graceless dancer

Title: clumsy dancer
Genre: introspective
Notes: nothing to declare

awkward dancer

squeeze the pen in his hand
and try to take the first step:

admit that I have a problem with myself.
not make those faces. There is no harmony,
not you see?
She and I do not get along.
I love her, sure, but just
has no future. See how
illusion, all the time. And it obstinately
: never learns.
Really, I called on to do something,
groped to change a little, but she is naive and
repeats
"no, I will be myself and who I
love will follow me. " But, you see, does not see
reality, it is always taken from dreams, and is always there
stops to turn on itself.
I tried to give her a push, but she pirouette.
And then I got tired and decided:
leave her there to make the awkward dancer
on the tips of glass.
If he falls, let it there. You better not
increases

Female Gential Discoloration

[Poetry] November 30, Bologna

Title: November 30, Bologna
Type: poetry
Genre: Drama, News
Plot / Note: The occupation of the Bologna train station (30 November)

November 30, Bologna

glass crunching beneath the soles
What
squeak and

They join the chorus of those that struck
Want Freedom

Rights
Hopes
is that to obtain
not have to breath in the lungs

ice cream from repressed anger.



red paint is mixed to water
Falling
And try to clean up a city

which was filthy and stained

clings to my shoes running
frightened by uniformed corps

Trembling
Drunk adrenaline.



Scream Whistle Sounds
bone
Behind
Sirens
Chaos

Then the fog goes away


The storm clears

noise and silence

remains restless.