Oh, today I'm lonely here,
And maybe a small drop of a tear
Has fallen on the ground.
The rain outside makes a noisy, calming sound.
Poetry has died in the flames of degradation,
And a small group of fighters,
Makes a unique poetic nation,
Fighting against "low-talent fashion,"
Against the ones who have lost their flow,
And met their personal Waterloo.
Waterloo
© Copyright: Микаэль Розенберг, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125050402407
Свидетельство о публикации №125050402407
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