A poem without a name
I sleped here again in the night,
I had again a terrible dream.
A injured bird hit against my window,
he came from far away, he flyed around the world.
I'm not a bird, I'm your memory he said,
do you want that I'm be your?
I heard bad laughter,
in the house there is a party.
How wonderful is the life without a memory,
how easy and cloudless all the people were running.
They laughted diligent und lied themselves in their eyes.
The bird hit again with his wings against the window.
My memory didn't give me rest,
All the people said to me that I should go out of here
and closed the window behind of me.
They forgot the love and the heardgoodness.
Свидетельство о публикации №111051606880
Юрий Жук 2 12.08.2024 00:33 Заявить о нарушении
Why?
Why talk about sad things?
Наденька Сокольчик 12.08.2024 12:57 Заявить о нарушении