As a child, the only way for me to take the syrup was hiding in a spoonful of Nutella.
So after the first sweet note, came the surprise of that nasty aftertaste. And I watched my mom
with questioning eyes, as if to ask why allow such a "cruel".
The same look that I might have towards life today. A look
to ask why I can not enjoy the joy and sweetness of a day, without having to suddenly discover that bitter pill to swallow.
A bitter pill that I know well. That I sent down so many times, washing it with tears of pain.
pain that I had disappeared under the illusion is that it is still here.
pain that makes me lose my mind and brings me a thousand questions.
Today I want to be strong and do not leave poison.
will come?
will come a time when this syrup is but a memory?
Cause I is avvelendando soul.
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