Yet another new day is on start, yet another morning shoots light in my eyes
and the telephone's dead--disconnect
yet again no Sun in the sky, yet another battle royal
and it seems the Sun is biggest whim yet
in the window's bend--a tale with no happy end,
strangest of tales
and it's raining like machine gun, and the Fall is marching the street
and the wall of brick-like clouds is high
and the trees all with plague are sick, caught it all the way back in spring
and the leaves look at us with guilt: they thought they could fly
on the window other hand--a tale with no happy end
strangest of tales
and then of course will come She, and She'll say 'Pack up, let's go"
leave the flesh alone
yet the flesh didn't finish its song, and it didn't get its share of love--
what a strange poem
there on the window's screen--strangest tale there ever been
a tale with no happy end..
Strangest of tales
© Copyright: Лорд Брайтон, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113081007540
Свидетельство о публикации №113081007540
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