Alessia Biasiolo

And then all is ended.

Silence lowers from the terraces,

granny listens no more screams

and is left alone,

in the middle of the empty green,

and of memories;

glory escapes from eyes,

enthusiasm is hauled down with the flags,

crumpled papers burn in the fireplace,

make champions and victories useless.

You continue to be

and still try to live

and love the fresh air

that frees fantasies

and you breath the time

that, unpretentions, makes you a champion.