Page 70 - THE BOOK DEMO

Pieces of Bergolo

an emerald grasshopper
and a red rose, freshly plucked
scorching sun morphing into fog

and back
and back again

a little village near the clouds
church bell the only trace of time

here we start the days all together
in search for poetry within us
shared confusion and scattered hopes

doing things I thought I’d never do
feeling too much and too deeply
trying to paint the impressions with words
pouring our hearts onto paper
and then burning it with bleeding feelings

Hanna

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