If we could ever understand what life is for
And what could be a strange manoeuvre
If we could ever realised it way before
Would it be harder to collect the oeuvre
Than talk to you and see that you would rather
Die than acknowledge and and restore my pain
To calculate the loss and gain of simple thoughts
To talk about walking in the rain, cats and dogs rain
Without thinking that I ought
To ever think of you again
Your whisper will not touch me for long time
I’ll die and you will always find the wrong time
To recreate another remnant of my strained face
In a strange person. If you draw the ace
I’ll draw six or joker, it depends -
In an endless poker, there is no space
For losers, when it somehow ends.
Endless Poker
© Copyright: Таня Вервер, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123042103322
Свидетельство о публикации №123042103322
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