Home, my sweet home, I`m just a tired traveller,
Back to dehydrated ground but most precious ever,
My shoes are threadbare, clothes darned already twice,
Parched with thirst but never killing fire in my eyes.
My feet are burning like they walked the earth around,
Tongue has stuck to palate but I whisper muffled sounds,
It seems I don`t hear what I mutter deep in solitude
But does it really matter if I`m travelling straight to you?
- Svetlank@ -
***
© Copyright: Светик Петрова, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113020310466
Свидетельство о публикации №113020310466
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