every touch can contain a story
every finger conveys a trace
broken past? maybe, future glories?
or some horrid and wild disgrace
is it honest to judge with knowledge
of what happened and what was then
i don't think so. but in the moment
in the moment it's deed or death
there's a skeleton in the closet
and that monster beneath your bed
but what's truly insane is loathing,
in the afterthought, of oneself.
done is done. loved ones never open
doors and welcome with their embrace
friends don't come toy you,
comrades wont leave
their untimely and shallow graves
live. and leans.
that's a human virtue
die and follow your instinct true
wolves are hunted that way
and future
lives with those who combine those two.
***
© Copyright: Мика Фролов, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121053008317
Свидетельство о публикации №121053008317
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