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We really are what we were when we were children.



Streets are full of clothing boutiques.
Tamed people enter in fashion traps, 
running after alluring baits.
They have been working all the week 
to reach the freedom 
of spending the whole weekend 
in the noisy shopping city, 
with its flashes and promises.

Women have been growing up,
and dreaming of a life like this. 
Men have been wishing this rythm of "being" 
for long years.
A whole week hearing the clang of the machines, 
perhaps smelling the deep pestilence of chemical products. 

A whole week, every week of the year, 
submerged in the sea of a competing life.
Where do we go? How are we? 
One could say that really this is all in life... 
but if you ask people if they are happy... 
they will smile and will look at you with sad eyes. 
"We do what we can" they'll say... 

They never take a shower in the rain. 
They never swim naked in the sea or in a river or a lake. 
They never jump in a puddle. 
They never walk without a direction watching the flashes of the water over the jet of a fountain. 
They never smell the soft scent of the old clothes, 
washed with the old home's soap. 
They look the ancient house of the grandparents but they don't see such a lot of love impregnated on the walls, 
on the curtains, on the carpets, on the doors, 
on the light that cross the old window crystals.
They never think of such a lot of love 
given by those who have left us. 
That love is still alive, and if we watch with our heart, 
we will be able to discover it 
in the silence of the old spaces that they inhabitated.

People don't know if they are happy. 
Probably, because they don't live as they really wish. 
The complex world of adults has manufactured our wishes. 
Our wishes are poor mirrors of empty values. 
We must discover on ourselves the original wishes 
of the time when we were children. 
We really are what we were when we were children. 
And we feel bad when we don't live like we really are. 
Someone or something, perhaps ourselves, lied us
and convinced us to sell our sacred treasure, 
a treasure of freedom and spontaneity. 
We must recover that treasure, the lost treasure of human kind. 
We must search happines on those realities 
that nobody can buy with money. 

We must sing without shame, 
we must sing without the poisoned wish for wealth and fame.
We must play with our sons and daughters. 
We must loose time enjoying life with natural realities we have so near, and so easily. 

We shouldn't be the sad and poor sheeps 
of the rich shepherds who direct people 
towards their material interests, 
walking to reach a life 
that walks far from natural treasures, 
very far from original human essence.
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To all the posts about POETRY.
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Comments

  1. So true. We are taught to search for good job, diplomas, recognition...We are not taught to search for happiness. When I say to people that I am happy even if I don't have job, house, nor car, they look at me as I am a lunatic.

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