How little green the park tonight,
‘Midst rain, lamplights and nostalgia’s hues;
So little I seek the acrylic bright.

How sad and far’s spring’s fleet’n’ flight,
Unworthy of the melancholy due,
Yet my predictable verses ignite.

How visibly my back doth bend
‘Midst floors of painted cheer and glee;
‘Tis worth returning, hysteria to mend.

How untamed and proud dost thou ascend
To scribble tears away from thee,
Yet leave the furrows on thy face penned.

How distant from the border’s blend,
‘Midst junipers and magic feigned;
So far we seem pathetic, my friend.

How mad, then, those who despair send
Like me, we, who in madness reign,
Must thank our foes, and to them bend.

Marco Delrio

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