Sometimes I wonder, if life i truly what it seems to me.
Spectacular lights,
flashing dreams,
demanding emotions,
left besides by intentions.
Regular walks,
defined portraits,
no rectangular rooms,
in sight.
Undoubted thruth leads to consequences,
no one ever expected to be,
as rain touches the pavement,
miracles happen to be seen.
Light split by water,
finds it true fountain,
in what it had been and never will be again.
As watches stare,
their fingers unstoppable circulating,
miracles happen to be,
in sight.
Splashing waves on coastal areas,
seas of deepest blue,
with greenish spots come,
in sight.
Martha Chiara 