I was a child, learnt to speak
To walk, to be someone.
My home land was very bleak,
But had a lot of sun.
And I remember my old friends.
They have forgotten me,
Because I went to other lands,
Abandoned my routine.
I’m far away from home now,
Somewhere in between
Of evil tongues behind a bow
And dried up submarine.
I always walk and run, and jump
To make my name mean
Just something, even any crumb.
Let letters be not lean.
I do not know what will come next,
But every time with change
It hurts not less, but doesn’t vex,
Because I feel my rage.
Свидетельство о публикации №119062406511