Forget Paris

PREMIATO con la seguente motivazione:
“Forget Paris” è un pezzo poetico pieno di metafore, simbolismi e creatività che nonostante si presenta errori di struttura e grammatica merita di essere premiata soprattutto per la difficoltà del testo che descrive un passato nascosto rimpiazzato da sentimenti e malinconia presente.

“Forget Paris” is a poetic prose. In spite of the grammar and structure mistakes, the metaphors, symbolisms and creativity in the text should be awarded for the difficulty in expressing a hidden  past replaced by present feelings and melancholy.

Shadow is a peace of soul left on the walkway, naked under the eyes that are going home.
My shadow is little, she doesn't tell any story, my shadow often sleep so close to my feet that I can even tell if she is following somebody else or myself.
My shadow today is a black piece of ice. Dirty like the snow left over on the parking lot.
She is dry and dirty, she is useless and ugly, she is the sign that Christmas is gone and, from now on, the bad weather doesn' t have any more reasons.
My shadow is the January of the heart, is a holiday left behind, is the ugly present that I couldn't change.
Today the walkway is full of shadows like mine.
Little and dirty, they are waiting for the worst.
They move around the legs like black cats in a night without the moon, and they sweat under this sky since they are slave harvesting cotton.
They know there is not coming back.
Today they walk, today we follow, but nobody can't tell, because nobody is close enough to look.
Everybody is looking at us, everybody is scared and nobody understands.
People just don't see, but today somebody else is walking for us, today something else is pulling us toward the end of this street.
We scream and we cry, and we throw our hair on the ground. We dance on the concrete and the winter becomes our sorry little clothes, our grey and older coat. 
And the shoes get lost because we are running faster that this wind, because we scare ourselves to death.
Today is the day: it is written in the sky.
Today is the day: the signs are on the red water running behind us.
Our souls today are little piece of ice, and love today is a shiny dusty sun, a sun that can' t melt our dirty thoughts.

Federica Galli