You cut my wings
Is laughing at it,
But you can not agree,
You can cry a bit!
Little world is near,
But you are inside.
Look and hear,
Now you can ride!
All smiles are around,
I see them here,
But about sleeping in ground
I don't want to hear.
The change is in my life,
Everybody understood,
But it is as a knife,
That cut my body as food.
Meat, blood, violence,
All you can see,
But only silence
Can help me.
I'm standing on the end
Of dark, of time, of this days,
I cry, shout and
Fly over sun rays.
My wings, where are they?
You cut and burnt.
Now fire is a pain,
That rules are learnt.
Who can help to turn them back,
Say me how I can...
And I cut my neck!
As far as I ran...ran...ran...
Свидетельство о публикации №108021803200
I dislike it when there is not clear sense. And I hate mistakes and rough handling with words. My last sentences apply to your reader A. Linder.
Я знаю, что английские стихи допускают нарушение правил грамматики, но не думаю, что стоит этим злоупотреблять. И мне не нравится, когда в стихах используют аббревиатуру. Мое замечание на русском касается предыдущего рецензента.
Зоя Лаут 16.05.2009 21:17 Заявить о нарушении