Colorful sunrise is over a pile
Of homeless senseless hopes.
Tearing down a word of lie
Makes your own lies uncloak.
Sun would eventually rise and warm,
But that's in a usual scope.
Watching the shines of a sunset to mourn
Makes life slither down the slope.
Stop piling hopes, they are roads to go
Not just a concrete bulk.
They won't hinder the sunlight flow
Even if used to sculpt.
Life is ahead, don't waist your time
Run alongside your hope.
If you are fast enough, there's a prize –
A sunset with your beloved.
Hopes
© Copyright: Кирилл Шилиманов, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115072405986
Свидетельство о публикации №115072405986
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