His mind is filled with drear music.
Through empty street he walks alone.
The feelings, so strong and unloosen,
Hide in his skin, blood, nerves and bones.
The tree turns into rain in his eyes
It covers sky, block-houses, you.
The world is mad, full of surprises
And nothing real can be true.
suburbs of paris
© Copyright: Настя Кабинёва, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118032200723
Свидетельство о публикации №118032200723
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