I read that the Italian Supreme Court has taken away a 3 years son to a couple from Brescia, who
The latter is not to be found and the child cannot be recognized in Italy.
Here are the reasons of the true protagonist of this story...
Son of no one?
Okay, I'm in.
May I choose otherwise?
Maybe I could.
I wish I could make myself understood, being three years old.
And maybe we could really understand what these precious and very young fellow citizens think.
Three years old.
And even less.
Son of no one.
Okay, I accept it.
Is this what counts, right?
It comes first.
That’s after the law.
Law is equal for all, they wrote.
And, somewhere, there must also be another note.
You may come out from nowhere.
Son of no one...
What does it mean?
Starting from nothing, some say.
With the void behind, others say.
Only, almost all synthesize.
And what remains is there, on the horizon.
Well, no, my friends.
What remains must be here, now, under my feet, in my hands.
More than ever ahead my eyes.
Because when the words ‘no one’ are in your name, everything becomes indispensable.
Son of no one.
The problem emerges at the end.
Of the phrase.
As the story.
Like when you try to hide a flimsy lie.
Even three years old you know the essentials, such as eyes that are not ashamed to watch yours and hugs given with no hurry to run away.
As when many, too many, strive to prove that something is of no one.
It means that it is blatantly…
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