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And you walk around

And you walk around
in Rome,
with orange and lemonthrees in gardens,
named Manzoni or Vittorio Emanuele.
The part of the world where the history
is too strong to keep on walking,
you just gotta stop, smoke a cigarette
and feel the ancient touch
surrounding each footstep you make,
each shadow you see.
As in every city,
there's no silence, no peace.
Just shapes in constant transition,
searchin for the perfect form.
There's no time to sit down
and enjoy all the beautyful shapes
around us.
There's no time to calm down
and LIVE in this city.
When will they start selling
bottles with time?


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[an error occurred while processing this directive] Poetry by Kenneth Sorensen
Dikt av poeten Kenneth Sørensen