You could call me a sot,
You could say I`m feeble,
Thinking I should`ve fought
When I knew I was beaten.
You could name me weak-willed,
You could chuckle: defeated…
If you`d known what I kill
In my heart to be seated,
Not to retort the thrust,
Not to get into fray,
Not to make conscience rust
In a lust of sweet bays,
Not to gutter my soul,
Not to imitate actions,
But to stay on my own
With my flaws and objections.
But for you, no one could
What`s your courage define,
Since you know what is good,
Stick to it till you die.
Let it be, let it be.
Inconsistent with others..
I will always be me
With respect to my brothers.
Dare not say that you know
Why I got into blues,
Because none of you all
Ever walked in my shoes…
sot
© Copyright: Королева-Пенская, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110072206109
Свидетельство о публикации №110072206109
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