Whenever there's a storm
All people try to hide
They find a place that's warm
And never go outside
These people close their doors
And don't let others in
They fight their little wars
And always try to win
Sometimes there will be rain
And sometimes will be frost
Outsiders live in pain
Because all think they're lost
The storm will wash away
The ones who cannot hide
But on a sunny day
It's nice to be outside
And speaking from myself
I've seen too many days
When I was on the shelf
And couldn't find a place
When people get too nice
They'll stab you on the back
So this is my advice:
Run when the sky gets black
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В качестве повышения, скажем так, квалификации, я затеял серию стихов на английском языке. Но большая часть из них - оказались так себе, не очень. И я оставил лишь парочку наиболее удачных или лёгких для чтения.