top of page

"Was it all really me?"

Was it the stone I turned

The house I built

The fire I lit

Was it the smile I drew

The hand I hold

The tear I hid

Not a fraction of day stays still

Not a voice, a treat, a threat

Rubbles and motions




Was it all really me?

poem & photography by Marco Pignataro

2 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page