oh, did you know?
there is a dry rose in one of your books.
in one or two or three or more...
a whole dry bouquet of roses and wild herbs;
i gave all that to you. you don't remember
you keep your bookshelf messy, dusty
and you can't even reach it.
oh but why'd you want to?..
i'm desperate and i am stupid
a fallen knight, a rusty rotten can
can't help but slipping:
my pride is all in shambles.
gone mad already. weeks ago!
tho keeping my facade.
i am insanely in love with you.
i know i shouldn't be...
it sorta happened
i wanna say 'i'm sorry' but it hurts
i can't feel sorry for my love no more
you see me trying, my beloved
to keep the pitiful facade
but flames start licking windows gently
this house is about
to be burned down i'm afraid.
i think i'm gonna be so miserable soon...
my hands are cold and dirty
i'm digging here my own grave -
it's dark and lonely,
as usual.
All the dry roses
© Copyright: Женя Парсли, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117051806360
Свидетельство о публикации №117051806360
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