The poetry was never enough


The serenely still lingers in my soul to hover.
Thoughts and memories are so far away in an oasis of peace
Even in the unreal silence of a room I can free my
dreams,if what I try and collapsed in pain.
But let the melancholy,disappointment to become sole master
despotism of its existence,is not possible,the soul needs
a new life,down in the glow of a sunset gives other
energy to start over.
Now let us contemplate in quiet and waiting for my dreams,
because inside them, poetry was never enough.


Gianluca Scintu

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