Hey,
Mr Out-there,
Drop me some soap
With good strong rope
Oh, no!
What thoughts you’ve got…
It’s just to catch back
My wild faith.
Clean its feathers,
Tighten her wings to a rock,
So that She can fully enjoy
Her wishful thinking medows
Without getting lost
Like an ageless castle ghost
Oh,
You think it’ll smother her?
No, I do not think so…
As I smothered Her years and years ago
With too much “what’s for?”…
F...
© Copyright: Наталья Шувалова, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105100901616
Свидетельство о публикации №105100901616
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