My cradle

 
My cradle is less than me
My cradle is smaller than me
My cradle is more solid than me


My cradle is made of cardboard
My cradle is covered with matting
My cradle is in the darkest corner of garret

I dreamed of particoloured blanket
You`d come up and you were unkempt
You`d thrown some flamming matches into my cradle
But my refuge was speechless. Since that day
I am self-contained in my weakness and i can dare myself
To despise all those days of my childhood
And mourn. And mourn . Mourn. Mourn.

If you looked into my cradle you would see
There are a lot of rolling worms in cusions instead of fuzz
If it was introduction....if my cradle was......
The byword is right: what is done, cannot be undone

Pest in our memory like some kind of a cell
A dwarf in the corner is smoking in my cradle
Eternally my cradle is a seat of the evil and grief
Commend me. Support me. My pose is a pose of egret
My cradle is stretcher
I am purling my particoloured blanket for my cradle