No one has expected that I'm self-rejected.
A mess, a leftover, I feel a turnover.
I burn any ground with Sisyphean heands,
My life? Do you smell it? Ambitions that melted.
Like cheese in the oven. Don't touch me, it's over.
Or you will follow and share my doom
Right here in the darkness, eternal blue...
***
© Copyright: Одинокий Один, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117103101494
Свидетельство о публикации №117103101494
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