The moon was low
The sky was gray.
I felt like my soul
Has been painted with spray.
The spray of the sadness
That lives in so deep.
I hope the madness
Of the spring would not sleep.
I hope the joy
Would spell the word.
And its enjoin
Would take over the world!
The world of love
That out braving the mind.
The world of laugh
In the heart of mine!
My soul
© Copyright: Гайдачук Виталий, 2002
Свидетельство о публикации №102040200233
Свидетельство о публикации №102040200233
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