We don't expose our feelings to the strangers
Most of the time, we hide'em from ourselves
But sometimes our soul surrenders
In someone's hands it rather quickly melts
We strip ourselves to bare skin somehow
And in the process we allow them to hurt
And faster than the kitten roars "meow"
We realize the dangers of this sport
So what's the answer? Hide inside forever?
And be afraid to ever get involved?
From outside, we all appear clever
But everyone desires to be loved
Desire - that is our problem!
The only happy - those who's content
The rest of us belong to the asylum
But why are we the ones, who should be send?
June 5, 2005
Bare skin
© Copyright: Поляков Олег, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105060600334
Свидетельство о публикации №105060600334
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