Coma is a comma, no full stops.
Stops are full of people dead inside,
Busses pick them up to give a ride
Cleaning up the roads, collecting crops.
Coma is a comma, half a stop.
If I will survive will you be proud?
Souls are drying up, three is a crowd,
They get leading roles; I am a prop.
Coma is a comma. Be my hope,
Talk to me, sit down, stay by my side,
Hear my silence: I'm alive inside!
Coma is a comma, no full stops.
Coma
© Copyright: Илюша Зернов, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113031806910
Свидетельство о публикации №113031806910
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