Trap*
My night is sinking in the cup
Of cold and bitter coffee
And any word won't interrupt
Tonight with usual crawling
No one around, just me and light
That's falling down the lamp
No one is wrong, no one is right
By getting mad in trap
Don't call for fun by bleeding soul
Don't pray for freaking mite
Enough for us this cup of cold
Enough this endless night.
11.10.
Trap
© Copyright: Руслан Арсененков, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120101100645
Свидетельство о публикации №120101100645
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