Boredome is becoming chronic.
It seems like bad trip.
All relations stay platonic.
It makes my blood creep.
This game haven't foretune minions,
As if all have strange desease.
There is lake of own opinion.
A better player doesn't breathe.
It's out of season
To search a reason.
Till I'm not wizen
I'll jump in flame.
I'll not use downer
I'll not be loner.
Till I've not goner
I'll play this game.
Tell me please a bed time story
Once again I take my place.
If you can't go on I'm sorry
I must score this ace.
One day I found
A blurry bound
'tween me and around.
It's my escape.
I try with all might
To make it all right
Untill it's not tight
Go on to jape!
Out of season
© Copyright: Александр Радомиров, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112032006278
Свидетельство о публикации №112032006278
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