Guest from heaven
My heart is dead.
I've come from heaven
Without bread.
I have a hope,
For friendly help.
But got a rope
Instead of bed.
Whenever sky
Will ask for help,
I'll be so quit,
Already dead.
You will be crying,
And ask be back,
But I am lay in
Rotten sack.
Свидетельство о публикации №120122309086