HIREATH
Sometimes, I find myself
looking through pictures of landscapes and cityscapes
like a prisoner glancing out of the window
sucking light
producing a melody unheard by others.
My home is where my heart is
and my heart is but a bird that migrates
to wherever there is sun, love and beauty
wherever the clouds are pushed aside by the power of freedom
this is where my heart is.
Hireath is the emotion I have always had
ever since I opened my eyes
and realized
how dissatisfied I was
with being in a cage.
In bianco e nero 