Hanging around...

I leave behind the colors of a town that seems to
fade in the sunny afternoon, walking slowly for
somewhere or something I ‘m still looking for… I don’t
know if this endless grey made people lonely, or if the people
painted their life just to forget their dreams.

I leave behind the fence with the white roses, the one
I used to play when I was a child. Thousand of
roses that look like splashes in the grey background.
Now there is only a ruined iron fence, devastated,
waiting for the lost years of a vivid past.

I ‘m gathering my thoughts that fly over
the roofs, without destination or
even a decent reason of existence. And, as I walk
through empty streets and buildings, with the arrogance
of youth filling my vanity, I bring with me a distant
sense of a white childhood.
Of a crystal echo of freedom.
Of the magic of eternity.

             Dreams have always bright colors. Unless
             they are doomed to fail. Unless the power of 
             time fades them in a shy possibility.

I’m gathering the broken blue that escaped,
sometimes from the sea,
sometimes from the eyes,
drawing shiny smiles over the water…
And I’m running back, faster than wind,
faster than thoughts,
to a deep red sunset that
I have kept only
for you.