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The man with the megaphone spoke spoke spoke about important things, unfortunately the passers-by, passing by distracted, at times only seemed to listen to his monologue, but the man with the megaphone believed in />own arguments and for this reason he continued,
ignoring the constant comments of those who thought he was
crazy... but? the fact ? that he... was suffering... he was suffering... really
The man with the megaphone was trying,
hoping, trying to pierce the concrete and shouting into the
wind words of warning and fight,
but in the meantime the voice was broken and the cough lengthened the
silence, it seemed like it was a matter of a few moments,
but instead the voice came back again, the voice came back...< br/>Comrades! Friends! Let's unite our voices! Justice! Progress! Now! Now!
The man and his megaphone seemed detached from the world,
is he like that? thin, profound and ridiculous at the same time,
the look of a man who really cares about something,
and who screams real torment,
not for a private and banal exhaustion,
but precisely because of hate and love,
which give color and heat,
color and heat but he... he suffered... he suffered... really
Comrades! Friends! Let's unite our voices! Justice! Progress! Now! Now!