He used to be unique and bright,
And true, and wild, and bold,
The only person who was right
In this uncertain world.
He used to generate my thought -
Well, I considered so.
But did I really owe a lot
To him? Did he bestow
That reckless stream, bewildered storm
To my abnormal eyes?
Did not a tiny harmful worm,
A matter of disguise,
Eat up to nerves, eat up to bones,
Turn into weightless sand
My inner rough but precious stone,
Uncultivated land?..
Head over heels in bitter dream,
Two years his addict,
I managed to get rid of him,
Though my half-baked verdict,
Believe or not, was hardly pain
That creature suffered from -
It was a chance for me to train
Sarcasm in its bold form.
Half-Baked Verdict
© Copyright: Власта фон Миловец, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110042303774
Свидетельство о публикации №110042303774
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