She has wind in her head
and her memories are flying away
that's why we reject her
that's why we call her crazy
so she talks to the birds
o? she makes circles in the water
and little things that keep her from throwing herself into the Seine
she has a hole in her heart
and full of love that gets lost
she loves pain so much
a guy who doesn't care? to do
so she doesn't want to be beautiful anymore
she doesn't want to be anything at all
she sleeps between two trash cans
very close to a cat who doesn't care
and then
there are all these trains
which go far away
and then
there is everyday life
and all its links
and then
time flies
and then
it's easier
to invent an island
without a home
She must have wind in her head
and her spirit fading away
she no longer knows in what storm
she left? her compass
it's true that with her parasol
which she opens even under bridges
it looks like a caravel
stranded on the ground
she looks at the other lost people
the castaways of winter
but it's each on their own
everyone for themselves in hell
she doesn't want to know anything about them
and especially not their story
she doesn't want to see herself in their eyes
she's too afraid of mirrors
and then
there are all these trains
but what is his
life
? what? does it hold
? almost nothing
is enough
to be fragile
is enough
to feel useless
and we get lost in the big city
homeless

INVIA LE CORREZIONI