I can bet
that sometimes
Michelangelo got bored
of being a genius
and all he wanted
was to fuck, eat, drink
I can bet
that sometimes
Hitler got bored
of being evil
and all he wanted
was to paint, dream, sing
I can bet
that sometimes
God got bored
of being the Creator of All
and all he wanted
was to rest under a palm’s shadow,
listen to the playful drum of waves,
on a sandy, white beach,
on a tiny green island,
in the middle of a blue ocean
that is not,
must not be
in paradise
