Spring is a very strange thing.
At once disappeared white ink.
Winter cruel stuff is far away,
No any clean snow covers lay.
Dirty and dusty is our world.
Full of rubbish new or old,
Trash swallows my soul
Making it unclean like coal.
Spring is time of the lust,
When blood is running so fast
And boiling all flesh,
All burning in ash.
Flowers and trees try to grow,
Sinful core makes it slow
In this perverted porn,
It is just time I was born.
Spring
© Copyright: Лев Семушкин, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117030812030
Свидетельство о публикации №117030812030
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