Sometimes I wanted to grow up
with the same rapidity used
to fall in love in secret
... forgetting wouldn't be a problem,
on the contrary, it would be a solution.

So dead I lived the past,
hiding in dreams;
and still dead I will live the future,
suffering in nightmares.

Life which I always wanted
was never the same
since the day in which
I got it justly.

And love was never the same
since the day in which it fell
inside the largest infinity:
the regret.

It's an open wound
caused by old yearning
of wanting to live
without even doing it.

Oh it was just a desire,
which like others,
died when finally
was fulfilled by time.

We have no fault
if from life we get
so much illusion;
coming since childhood
and reaching old age.

We have no fault
if current days
make us want
more and more
something better,
fictitious and
pleasant.