You tried to escape, to find your own way.
You left them, having no reason to stay.
You faded in fog,
And no one was there…
You closed up the door, locked up your heart.
How does it feel, standing so far apart?
You close your eyes,
And no one is there…
You play your guitar in the emptiness, friend.
Trying to smile, but you know it’s the end.
The end of the road,
But nobody knows…
You fired a shot, made us feel small,
Your story ends at a black and cold wall.
The Wall is too high,
And no one is there…
You won the last game, lost the last prize,
The sky is too close, with pain in your eyes.
The trip lost its sense,
Since no one was there…
And no one will be there – this is the end.
And I won’t see you ever again.
Each book has a last page,
But nobody cares…
26. 08. 2001
No One There
© Copyright: Андрей Колесников27, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108070104301
Свидетельство о публикации №108070104301
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"You’ve won the last game – you’ve lost the last prize.
The sky is too near – the pain in your eyes.
Your trip makes no sense,
Since no one is there…"
So sad! So true! I am about to trade all my victories now. Interested in buying? All for sale.
Really, man! I loved the poem.
Алла Белоусова 26.08.2008 17:39 • Заявить о нарушении
The sky is too near – the pain in your eyes.
Your trip makes no sense,
Since no one is there…"
So sad! So true! I am about to trade all my victories now. Interested in buying? All for sale.
Really, man! I loved the poem.
Алла Белоусова 26.08.2008 17:39 • Заявить о нарушении