My world: it is not round,
When it's the four-sided box,
Which made from cement or the ground
With sofas and the clocks.
My world has ceiling - in the sky,
The floor is terra one.
My feet are grounded. Not fly
My soul, it doesn't run.
My walls are oceans
With islands - frame.
The plants are cuirtains,
And the water- flame,
The furniture is forest, hill,
The bed is plain,
To sleep, until
It disappear - the Eco-Pain.
The Eco-Pain
© Copyright: Андрей Боровков, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118080700692
Свидетельство о публикации №118080700692
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