My hopes slowly are painted in black.
Time is going away and not getting back.
But all live as though going to live forever,
As though nobody makes mistake. Never!
Things are harder to reach the heart
More souls for sale. Money has become an art.
Inundated in sins, simple like beasts,
With the same simple dreams and wishes,
To fuck as much as possible, indiscriminately.
To Deceive to all and yourself constantly
Fress without looking up head from bowls.
Stop it! Realize! Nothing thinks only fools.
Stop falling...
© Copyright: Дубовик Никита Александрович, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112013103139
Свидетельство о публикации №112013103139
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