Yeah, I wish you were here,
It's crazy to feel your arms,
And I know you are not real.
It's not fair, you can't.
It's not fair that souls are different.
My eyes are oriented between the lines.
The sun's shining as much as I miss you.
The water in oceans is all mine.
It's not fair to divide the moon into pieces.
I'm holding one but you have refused.
And now I need only to look n feel decent.
But not to show myself confused.
In Istanbul
© Copyright: Станислав Райт, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119080400445
Свидетельство о публикации №119080400445
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