Nights are stretching like long trains...
Days are creeping like dim snails...
While I'm sleeping see nightmares...
Taste of food? - I just don't care...
Thoughts are spinning like black birds,
Scratching soul of mine with sharp beaks.
Like the weeds arise the words...
And so far like stars are our meets...
Melancholy
© Copyright: Олессия Павлова, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111041205752
Свидетельство о публикации №111041205752
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