The only man I love,
The only soul I lost.
The bare pain is calm.
It’s cold like coffins’ frost.
I pray you have delight,
I wish you do your best.
I promise be polite.
I will convert protest.
It’s pretty kettle of fish:
The main in human’s being
Are racing forward death
And empty silly things.
The only, whom I love,
The man with no kiss,
Provoking my face-palm,
Your voice and you are missed.
P. S. And even if the blaze
Of rancor ever breathe,
Please, recollect the smile
And slight amour disease.
ZazaFisher
07. 01. 2012.
disease
© Copyright: Заза Фишер, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112071405568
Свидетельство о публикации №112071405568
Рецензии
