Triste Risveglio Poem by Pietro Grossi
Triste Risveglio
Il citofono ha suonato..
Ero ancora addormentato,
Vado verso l'apparecchio
E nell'ombra vedo un vecchio.
Lentamente si avvicina,
L'andatura a modo mio,
Poi si ferma spaventato..
E' lo specchio..sono io!
Quanto tempo che è passato
Su quel viso che era schietto,
Sono ancora frastornato
Mentre suona l'apparecchio.
PG2610150704
Saturday, February 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: wake up call
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4/25/2024 10:47:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
