So much of pain that brings me every morning,
when I am not myself but broken toy,
and day moves on being full of rue and sorrowing
that I am just amusement for a boy,
who plays the seek and hide in his discretion,
manipulative juggler and a rogue,
instead of being handed - white - and special,
but honesty is not his strongest stroke.
That's why the day and night are changing places,
and no light is coming on the way,
the "Moonlight Serenade" is not for lease...
The stamp of grief will cover our faces
till miracle will bring a sunny fay
whose magic wand destroys all dirty grease.
Sonnet 2
© Copyright: Зоя Видрак-Шурер, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115082807113
Свидетельство о публикации №115082807113
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