Something breaks down in the clock...
It seems the time doesn’t move at all.
My heart is turned in to a painful rock.
My wife’s face is white as a wall.
Our little daughter is in a surgery room,
It’s not a clock – our lives don’t move,
We don’t see how outside summer blooms
I feel how the tear cuts on my cheek a deep groove.
We are sure, that everything will be fine,
We just don’t have another choice.
I am whispering: ‘’God, please, save her, do not decline”,
And I hear the same being asked by my wife’s voice.
Свидетельство о публикации №110100200429
Томас Макарскас 04.10.2010 13:29 Заявить о нарушении
Творческих Вам успехов.
С уважением, Аркадий.
Аркадий Шляпинтох 05.10.2010 03:49 Заявить о нарушении
Удачи Вам, Аркадий!
Томас Макарскас 05.10.2010 09:54 Заявить о нарушении