217-Words worth

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Testo: 217-Words worth
di Iviola

It's now a fortnight
I don't think
I don't judge

It's now so easy
To be nothing more
Than a plain side of myself

Through spectacles
I do no spectacle
No exhibition
No pace race

I don't want anything
Than my current myself
I don't owe anything than
I don't own anything
I don't own

It's so easy
After more then
Twelve night and some days
I'm not regent
Surely surreality
Will allow me

Nothing more
Than this bonfire ashes
Duller than my eyes
Grayer than my mind.

I'm not here
I'm there
And I don't want be
In any other queue
On a checkered sky.

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