Anger without enthusiasm
With a tedious job I'll occupy myself,
Unexcitable thoughts I'll slowly set loose
From my worn out utterly inner self .
I don't need a mirror called Lao's
To accept black smudges under my eyes,
Bitter lines around the mouth,
Shoulders, held notably tight.
When did my head go gray-haired?
It is too painful to harp on the past,
Indeed, it was at the age of eight-
Today it provides a cover for dust.
"Hold out your hand, take the tablets-
The night itself brings such a fear"
The voice drones on, I'll even double it,
For all my worries to disappear.
Свидетельство о публикации №115111210995
Желаю поменьше переживать...
С уважением,
Андрей Чекмарев 16.12.2015 14:40 Заявить о нарушении
С благодарностью. Ксения.
Ксения Желева 16.12.2015 16:00 Заявить о нарушении
I had not a slightest doubt
it had happened due to that.
And your poem was about
very good. It was not bad...
*
Андрей Чекмарев 16.12.2015 16:11 Заявить о нарушении