C.I.N.E.M.A.T.I.C.


Why can’t life be cinematic,
cinematic, ci-ci-cinematic,
Oh, I want a life so ecstatic,
so, so, so cinematic.

Give me drama,
be my armour,
turn my life into a screenplay,
written in my honor,
stay, I wanna stay,
never let me pass away.

It would be enjoyable, watchable and magical,
so, so, so adorable,
And yet, it seems impossible,
Why can’t my life be screenable?

That filmic life is all I want,
humoristic, euphemistic,
futuristic, optimistic,
everything should be all right.

Give me another life,
and I’ll promise I’ll be yours,
but in this one,
the game is over,
I’m out of carts.

Suddenly,
the credits are closing,
with a piano composing,
a symphony,
to a life that once belonged to me.

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Categories: Poetry, ThoughtsTags: , , , , , , , ,

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