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Poesie in inglese

Pagine: 1234... ultimatutte

A man

People don't know anything
about him.
He's lonley man,
near the madness,
near the fear.
He writes songs for the sun
but with no success.
And People decide to
leave him alone.
Alone, for the rest of his
A pathethic life, alone,
lonley man by the river,
near the sun of a grave.
Cats run along his body,
in the middle of the night.
He sings his songs,
all night long,

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   3 commenti     di: aleks nightmare


And so the time has come...
The year which ends in these days... A turning point in my tormented existence...
This dreadful moment, in which I will lose every reference point!
Even if I still think I didn't deserve such loyal friends...
Can I accept this peacefully?
Lose my burning spirit?
What's the meaning in fighting for something which I have
already lost?
Now only memory is my salvati

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   3 commenti     di: Alessio B.


when i was a child i like the flowers and the sunny days,
the green fields and the sandy beach,
the freedom of the body and the spirits;
but then came the rain and the dream was gone.

Then i was fourteen, the days were no sunny anymore,
the fields turn to deserts and the beach to wasteland,
and my spirit was aching in the prison of the body;
and then came the rain and the hope was gone.

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   5 commenti     di: Simone Mascardi

Lost Soul

My lost soul, my deep inside,
Why falling into your stormy darkness?
Why shouting your pain shadowy?
The Indifference kills outwardly
the healthy spirits of common gensis
through a clear zephyr of sufferings

By harp a miraculous lullaby playing are
love and dialogue
this sort of inexistent communication
away dragging are
their notes
among these social individuals
a p

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   4 commenti     di: Arianna Bianchi

The Life

The life goes on
nothing should you stop
someone may die
but you're always alive

And you have to live
without any tear
trying laughing
of everything

The life never stops
The life never ends
When the sun goes down
You can wait for it's return
The life never stops
The life never ends
After the death
there is the relax

And when the life paints itself in black
you feel some

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   2 commenti     di: vasily biserov

Pagine: 1234... ultimatutte

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