My heart belongs to Plumber,
My old and tired heart.
He puts me plumb asunder,
When I'm sad.
His heart and poems are plumbless -
And I don't know why
With him I go plumb mindless
And start to fly.
He always plumbs in darkness
And finds the Light.
As if he knew all boundaries
Of my own mind.
My heart belongs to Plumber
© Copyright: Елизавета Судьина, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111122909092
Свидетельство о публикации №111122909092
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