I've perhaps believed,
talked alone with myself, and I have not seen.
shocked my old chaps
've taken the life,
didn't seem me, if well swiped them a butt
telling tales
not being upright,
banging a tootsie, even softly,
in the time that I don't drive any thought,
they go everywhere but not where I wish really.
for every action there is a precise cadence,
which is quashed by His presence.
Once by myself at the thirty-seventh minute of the sixth hour of the twenty-fifth day on Saturday, January, in the year 2014th.
Mattia
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