I looked at world through the broken glass
And could not understand why it's so cracked.
My heart was made of cool and chilling ice
That's why in spring I am used to going mad.
I looked at you as if I was abused
With sight of your bluish-creamy hands.
You was so tiny, made of solitude
And to my shame you have refused to fade.
I knew your fingers cut with broken glass
I knew the reasons for you to be so cracked.
I never tried to love. I just despised.
And made you so fragile and deeply sad.
I saw the world but I failed to feel.
You felt the core and never tried to hide.
I locked the door, but could not conceal
The keyhole from your disclosing mind.
I looked at world through the broken glass
© Copyright: Мария Баулина, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116021704212
Свидетельство о публикации №116021704212
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