I was impressed with reading novels.
Please, now accept my senseless poems.
I'm not a person-butterfly.
I'm just a girl who loves her life.
I got god's precious gift” to write”.
I used all inks, but couldn't find
What would be right for my free soul?
And what my life has been used for?
The blank sheets are lying on the floor
And waiting for the worthy answer.
The goal of life is not being smart.
It's only sin of shiny mind
And feeling's exclamation mark.
The mind is mad and heart is stung.
The life is the sarcastic smile,
The drop of sea, the dust on file.
We come and go, all names rubbed out.
We’re only guests in spiny world.
“I’m an individual!” Charlie found.
Another guy just said,” Stay gold!”
Forgive me, pals! I’m here for a moment,
Of course, I’m not a genius poet,
My thoughts are only grains of sand.
They’re shoed with just unmeaning end.
Don’t try to search a brainy sense
Why weeds are growing on the land.
4.25-26.02.