the poster Pinocchio
I love you, Pinocchio.
piece of wood planed, rough-hewn,
carved and polished to perfection.
dress with paper flowers,
cone with crumbs on his head
you dive into the lives of leg Leste
but still well before
to become a perfect child
you were not ever
only a puppet.
still much to be done before
your was a voice of protest
and you invented, created and imagined
only to change this life into the party.
Not only lies told in spite
of naivety and humble Geppetto.
Have you tried to run and flee
away from educational Convention:
from cricket and meddlesome preachers
who speaks only to be right,
quell'abbecedario by all rules
to study binding to chairs.
You went to discover the world
and breathe through the nose to the wind
something that looks like a change.
and the flight took the good and the bad:
Eater that catches a child,
the fox and the cat who steal money,
of the doctors who make you the party,
a fairy-faced melancholy,
and a nice fellow who hated blinkers
in search of Toyland.
I loved you and I love
my friend Pinocchio!
sniffed the air and the look of paper
is in you who surrender sophistry
and lovers of ancient anachronisms.
Light, jumping, floating,
scary or smiling liar
're not a piece of wood
but love.
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