I see it now, my fucking lantern.
It's shining calm, like stupid stars.
It's all subjective. No more captain.
And no more childhood. Only scars.
I'm writing poems in that language
That I hate more than stupid rules.
I am some wind in fucking bandage.
I'm golden fish in swimming pools.
I'm nothing more then my ideas.
The world is living it's own life.
I see that lantern. It's between us.
And nothing more that I denied.
But what is me? This stupid lantern?
When I see it, it's very me.
I no more want that stupid pattern.
I am the wind. The wind I see.
Lantern
© Copyright: Елена Замулина, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114080701162
Свидетельство о публикации №114080701162
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