why mister we writing letters
with no adress to each other
why mister it doesn t matter
that we belong to others
who is he tell me mister
who is he who became my muse
i keep blaming myself for that feeling
i can find for myself no excuse
when mister it gonna be finished
tell me mister do you feel pity
that life and art are so different
and we so strangely seem to be happy
tell me mister what are you thinking
when there is snow everywhere
why one more glass of wine you start drinking
while my beautiful homeland looks so sad and bare
where is your soul, mister
why you coming back there
on the plane to old memories
to the land looking sad and bare
who told me this story, mister
who is he who became my muse
tell me would it be mister
only poetry not a truth
mr
© Copyright: Джерелиевская, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111021008100
Свидетельство о публикации №111021008100
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