Your palms touching to for the wink,
I has felt a blast of globe,
But morning, waking up from dream,
An old guitar with me was singing.
Where to find you, in what world?
Life whithout you now – an utter torture,
Come, and release me from prison,
My daydream’s last attempt.
Last attempt
© Copyright: Татьяна Медвецкая Постолатьева, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115062907708
Свидетельство о публикации №115062907708
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