You cannot be at twenty one
The same as you were, when sixteen.
All charm has in five years gone
And now your words seem, but obscene.
You say it`s boring to progress,
Progress to me is cream of life,
When all is fine, you are distressed,
When quiet is, you want to strife.
You do not value, you assess,
You put a label to the world,
I was a fool ignoring stress,
I was a fool to store mould.
I cannot love, if I`m not proud
With one I choose for my defender,
And I am ashamed, I say it loud.
You stopped your progress. It is surrender.
And I do not love anymore.
Nevermore.
Nevermore
© Copyright: Королева-Пенская, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112042200891
Свидетельство о публикации №112042200891
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