9 Th Of July 2022 Poem by Paola Degli Esposti

Dust dust dust is in my eyes, dust dust dust dust what comes after? Fog becomes the certainty, eveyday something extranges ourselves! What comes after the storm? Never to forget the screams, never to forget the strenght toward the destruction. Switch off the black channel, the thoughts of peril, the thoughts of neglection. The nightmaare is close to the end. The nightmare will come to the end. Dust is everywhere.