Franco D'Elia

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Of Immaturity

The old days of the immature have gone astray
Look upon the mothers gaze, her child a man in a day
Walk this step of one hundred times, each of us has yet to own
Know the love that sheds in a youth of pain that shows
And go again and live the life in the night, the moon that is full tonight
Oh sweet flowers bloom in the hectic noon that is of me and was of you
Go place the note by the garden door and look upon these days that move away
So away, this away, far away
The immature grow to me