We have nothing but our anxiety
Which spreads inside our minds
What can cause, just a word, society
To the whole human kind?
All these modern terms
Which bare their insanity
They reflects kinda our conditions
Each of us has their own missions
But all the time we face the reality
Hundreds, no, thousands excuses
Some stupid and weird circs
We hide our fierce abusers
And create for them scenes for shows
But sometimes it has to be a full stop
A red mark which ends all the world
You can always climb to the top
Even if the road is blindly blurred
A full stop
© Copyright: Алина Субботина, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120090500472
Свидетельство о публикации №120090500472
Рецензии