Quay. I am. I was offended.
I fall the way all down and down.
I'm dying. All fed up.
And the dance of drops up high into the air.

To someone - everything. To someone-nothing.
Hope. Fairy- tale. Just a lie.
To spend this life.
And probably it can be fixed.

No. Not in this life. And not to me.
A candle burned. I lead a lesson.
About life. About what the needs the person has.
But generally, I have no interest.

* It's a translation of the same poetry "Набережная"