Before the exit I revealed that
I won't return here anymore
I know that all this I'll forget
Beside me appears small fear
What expects me there
on the other side? Shall I bear?
Shall I have as much
Weasel and heat?
I feel one compresses me
I feel how one pulls me
They know I'll confuse
Adieu my old refuge
I have more huge
To become recognized is gravely
Am I needed for that world of destiny?
To be where it is necessary
But shall I be able to be there?
Why I'm expected there
on the other side? Why'm I cared?
What do I have except
Weasel and heat?
I feel one compresses me
I feel how one pulls me
They know I will roam slow
Good night my home
21 марта 2001 г.
Going out
© Copyright: Сергей Читалов, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107032601931
Свидетельство о публикации №107032601931
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