And
I
Was
Standing at the dark
Porch about four a.m. ,
Observing tiny-tiny world
- of childhood.
All
The
Night
Praying for a mark
For me, a sign - for'em..
And couldn't return - the room's as cold
- as torture boot.
Well,
It
Was
Wind who smoked my cigarette -
That "Northern Star" -
The cheapest crap I ever hold.
It
Was
My
Aunt who borrowed it to me
With no regret -
She always knew: I would go far
(and further and then fall),
But it was not her fault.
Yes
This
Is
Heavy - everyone had told,
But I suppose - too late
To dupe somebody, or capitulate.
carpets-town
© Copyright: Тан-Ча, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109070700792
Свидетельство о публикации №109070700792
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