Windy streets, no trees no mountains.
Today I walk alone.
And your voice still hear speaking.
I'm chilled to the bones.
It's kinda snowing, kinda chilling;
And words: "I'll call you back,"
But it's almost week from that day:
A fail after good luck.
I miss you, I confess it.
Yes, I do, so what?!
Who cares, if I catch cold,
Like before I've never caught...
I don't think of you-of weather:
Tomorrow it'll be cold;
Windy streets, no trees, no mountains,
And still nobody called...
A Walk
© Copyright: Evvie Rough, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102020400723
Свидетельство о публикации №102020400723
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