Who knows
where wandering, my poor soul
right now
into memories of so many people,
tied up to various events,
lines of poems.
among slanders, intrigues,
black spellings.
Different people
who know about me
differently interpreting me,
my words and behavior
which fixed into their memories,
according with their sense of justice
and conclusions
based on conclusion of their
knowing person and authorities.
How much people
have told and argued about me,
so much lives I have.
Bad or good
those who remembered,
no one capable
to judge and correct them
It seems I getting far away
from myself,
lost hopelessly
among the great crowd.
My lost soul
© Copyright: Муратбек Рысбеков, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119101101893
Свидетельство о публикации №119101101893
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