Smoke deludes the terrace around me
Wish I could be simple again
Like Mario in Il Postino
Wish I could write like Neruda
Violets peep into my horizon
Smiling simply; peaceful
Beckoning the day
Wish I could smile back as simply
Happily
But work weighs me down
Insensitve music confuses me
White patches in my head
All the time, pointless
Smiling violets
How I wish I could smile back
Simply, happily at you
Like I could a while ago.
It’s a grown up feeling
I hate the nonchalance
Impassionate adulthood
Why blame a phase
This is who I have become.