the city with an old soul
that blisters my feet
that carries the good and the bad
the oblivious and the knowing
all in a living current.
they praise it, they hate it
too touristy, the heart of the Catholics
peace, too noisy
it is a symphony, it’s silence
where ghosts are sought out.
where the rain is cold and dirty
and alive, pure and passing no judgement
a place for new beginnings and closing chapters
for passing into history without a whisper
Immortality is no quick friend.
Roma! I honestly couldn’t live there but its good to dive in once in a while and feel its pulse.