We own to sky.
Airplanes take us to airpoets.
I have no wings (?). Help me to fly.
My ship calls "stop",
but you always talk to him "stop".
It's waste of time. I'm going down.
My wings are inside, but I can't help it to fly.
Give me your hand. It's not the end.
Helping hand
© Copyright: Рита Краффорт, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114091208430
Свидетельство о публикации №114091208430
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