The hated white- I can't stand-
It frightens me, it gives offense.
Its dim and ominous light
Steps into contradiction's tense.
It calls to me each passing day
And won't release me from its hold.
When I grow tired, in silence stays-
What for? It knows, and leaves untold.
Oh, how hard it is to live with it!
I tried to kill it- I admit:
Cross it out, smear it, tint it blue,
Tear it, burn it, drown it too!
But night goes by, the pain subsides,
And dawn burns out beyond the pane-
As if unscathed, it comes to rest beside-
A blank white sheet lies there again.
The white colour
© Copyright: Евгений Тушин, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126032702297
Свидетельство о публикации №126032702297
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