You see the tears of my dolls.
You write the stories on my walls.
You always ask me, where I was,
When Sunny dragons lived in our kitchen.
All my trees are red today.
Trees are dancing on my way.
And all the things you have to say:
The child of the Moon is singing «I’m a rich man»
You know, the Moon will come herself.
She will be pretty like an elf,
She will be standing on the shelf.
You know that it will happen. It will happen.
I read the book about the girl,
Who had been painted on the wall.
You sing the songs about the doll,
Who always used the word as greatest weapon.
05.02.2017
You see
© Copyright: Лиза Андреева-Фролова, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117031309945
Свидетельство о публикации №117031309945
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