Strangers
They look through the mirrors
They shatter the sunlight
Of a flourishing day.
Battered
They state their appearance
Through useless obsession
With cashing in game.
Drowning
In depth of decisions
Of lust and it's pleasures
They shiver the same.
Somehow
I've made it out even
Without hesitation
I'm walking away.
The game
© Copyright: Плюмерия Карликова, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120040807961
Свидетельство о публикации №120040807961
Рецензии