Poem of white

The glass is half full,

And this day is at its half too,

Through the world you are still looking for your destiny,

When you wear horizons in your eyes, on the eyelids.

You look in the book, burn it together with

That votive painting wich you desired,

Rewrite the book and paint a moon

Self- portrait, make it as you deserved it!

Too omnivorous you engrain perfection,

Paradoxically, you still believe in the white room stag,

In the delta azure, water-lilies grow only on Mondays,

When you galactic reborn from flame.

It’s simple to enumerate you commonplaces,

To brake your glass, maybe to drink it,

But breathed in clandestine nights

So many fulfilled dreams I give you.

I remember the winter you were born,

The snow was like a heaven dream, when you were screaming,

Enriching the hope that often everything can be loved,

With daily blue experiences, you were pouring in moment the chipped white.