a poem

mi manca l'italia
i can't believe
sometimes
the things that happen
i want to grab them and put them away
because i'm sure they won't happen again
and here too
i feel that way
like living a dream, which you know will never continue
but rather from which you awake
dissappointed and confused
and now the talk about sleep
reminds me all over again
and so i'm going to sleep
because what else can i do