Seven-year-old
I'm a seven-year-old in your embrace
Singing and swinging
Wind will blow dust out of my chest
Along with some ashes
Of my irritated words
Why am I running away from my happiness?
To let it chase after me.
Seven-year-old
© Copyright: Полина Вильфор, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109090101766
Свидетельство о публикации №109090101766
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