No more place to hide, I’m sorry.
That we were at the same bus
Riding to the unchained story,
Leading us to not yet us…
We’ll be there every morning,
But apart, not saved ourselves.
Such a spell and such reckoning,
And the cut photos on our shelves...
No more people love to love us,
No more letters for the crave.
Greasy papers like from butters,
Mystic pictures on the rave…
14.12.2024 (11:48pm)
No more place to hide, I m sorry
© Copyright: Максим Митрофанов 2, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124121500308
Свидетельство о публикации №124121500308
Рецензии
