Sometimes we think, that everything's OK,
Sometimes we love, but building own way,
Sometimes we cry, and noone to forgive -
In hope we trust, but could we just believe?
Oh no, it's fake. We need "my own goal" -
To live, to die. And winning our roups.
We love to care, and noone cares. So why -
We play so much. And living just to die.
In case... You know, what should it be the best
In way you like: the work without rest?
The love without hope? The miracle with pain?
So why if you love snow, you ask for massive rain?
Sometimes
© Copyright: Алена Лайхиа, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108011500039
Свидетельство о публикации №108011500039
Рецензии
Hi, Kassandra! The first I want say: in my opinion, you are great writer!!! And this your poem is so beautiful, special and very philosophical. I like it!! Maybe I'm speak English so far from prefect, in differ from you, but you must know: I like your poems so much! It's good occupation - take poems. Good luck for you! Nastya
Кунсик 10.02.2008 01:37 • Заявить о нарушении
Кунсик 10.02.2008 01:37 • Заявить о нарушении
На это произведение написаны 2 рецензии, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.