Some good news, you're alive, Mr. Adams
So are you, Mr. Tolkien, as well
And it's nothing to do with your body
You're alive as long as you tell
Me the stories made up by your mind
Mr. Fitzgerald, welcome here too
To the club of the endless survivors
That have started a strange life anew
You are printed inside every letter
You are breathing with every word
You are living in feather-like paper
You are safe with your hero's sword
Or the love that you harboured deeply
With your characters just like you're one
Or the hope that you promised to give me
In the future when old I'll become
***
© Copyright: Племянница Уолта Уитмена, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116060410142
Свидетельство о публикации №116060410142
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