Dormi bene my dearest friend.
Your journey was long and you are weary.
Dormi bene, Nana, you deserve the rest.
I’ll watch over the flock; to them I will tend.

Fly to the horizon and do not look back.
Now is your time to see peaks and summits.
Drift away in the warmest, deepest seas,
Traverse the wildest, rockiest track.

Your body can’t hold you; your soul is free.
Your beautiful, worldly, universal soul.
Take it to be with the love you have missed.
And give him the longest hug from me.

Nessa dorma. It escapes me.
It’s easier to love you than to miss you.
For you;
I’ll learn to do both, in sweet harmony.

arrivederci alla luce del giorno
perché saremo insieme
nella notte
riuniti eternamente
nei sogni e nei bei ricordi

My love, always.

Sell me this pen, sell it to me.
Make me want it.
Let’s not forget though that I handed it to you.
So I know that it is just like any other.
Yet I command you perform, so perform you do.
You artfully articulate the uniqueness of this artefact.
The desirable details of its description.
Nimble, hardy fingers circle the circumference.
Deftly, you do just as you’ve been asked.
Captivated by your wit, your elegance, your candour;
The splendour of your endeavour.
So that I end up buying into the pitch and not the pen.
As I said, the pen is not special, yet, the ink is permanent.
I’ll buy it, but only from you and together we will write the future with it.

Find the heart amongst the thickest weeds
The gnarliest, coarsest most jagged rocks.
Find the heart and, darling, plant all it’s seeds
For its love can unlock the tightest of locks.

Find the heart amidst the choppiest seas
The sways, the depths and plunderous tide.
Find the heart and, darling, remember please
To trust in it completely and always confide.

Find the heart laying in a sweltering heat
In the most baron, deserted, deadened land.
Find the heart and, darling, feel its soft beat
Know this; there’s nothing the heart can’t withstand.

Standing in a crowded room, Knowing everyone and no one.
A solitary individual; sense of impending doom.
I realise my connections
Are empty, shallow, false.
I see, in their eyes, small mirrors and woeful reflections.
Reflecting these emotions
And despite my inner pain,
I see; We all share mixed up notions:

That loneliness is for the alone.

The other day I showed my mom my poems
"Why do you always write sad poems? Write happy." She says
I just nodded, but I couldn't tell her my code of secrecy.
I write so I can let all the pain go
The pain of yesterday
and the reason that was was that I didn't have anybody when I moved
Everybody was occupied
And on my first day of school, I ruined everything
my words were spoken in clumps
and my pen was my only companion
So I wrote
wrote like the ink was my blood and paper my skin
and poetry accepted my request of being a friend
now my poems act as a mentor and a tutor
I can't give up writing sad poems
because if I do,
I'll lose yesterday