Through days, through thorns of life
I have to run. Like knife
I cleave my age, it burns
And leave hard marks. Steep turns
Can't stop my race with time
I kill it with no crime,
Just try to keep on run
Escape from thoughts. They come
They bring some pain and some regret
Of things I could have done. Forget.
28/11/2008
Run
© Copyright: Алехандро Вегас, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125111904375
Свидетельство о публикации №125111904375
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