Calls to your door,
Fragments of dreams
No one will come,
Out of a dream,
Only the feathers in the bed,
Those who are in love.
And now all the love
Wrapped in glass,
You're lonely,
But then you are so drunk.
Nothing is impossible and
Now change
You do not believe in it,
What broke off the thread,
And in this hole,
only you alone
And on the walls everywhere
Snatches of dreams.
Snatches of dreams
© Copyright: Иван Земляков, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117012009517
Свидетельство о публикации №117012009517
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