Well, what if at some point,
In some few years
I will have a child?
Cause who the hell cares
About thy regular problems of mine?
Quite sure I am
that at this time
I’ll forget what «to cry» should be standing for.
Still alone and a little forgotten,
Not soulful (well, not anymore)
Or desperate, inappropriate, metaphorically saying – rotten –
That is what people will say about me,
Joking around, finding this funny.
Walking along the circus of presence
I’ll go on and destroy the sweetest memories
Of my childhood favorite bunny.
Sunny?
Not anymore, not even in Philadelphia.
So, I’m right, what’s there to cry for?
For the apathy..?
Новопреставленные страхи
© Copyright: Ира Васильева, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110092800200
Свидетельство о публикации №110092800200
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