A life on a piece of paper

by Annalisa Scarpa

I wrote the life on a piece of paper,
my whole life: a paper castle.

I thought it could be a letter, I thought.

I thought that by saying it,
by telling it to someone,
writing it to someone,
someone would read it.

I thought: someone who reads it
could understand the Meaning:
the meaning of my living,
the sign of my wandering.

So I wrote it,
on a piece of paper:
a life on a piece of paper.
“These are just words” you thought,
words thrown in the wind.

So my life, that piece of paper,
had to find a meaning,
at last it learnt flying.