It all was marked before I came to place,
And everything I do, does not surprise the space,
My dear flower, there is rain, so raise your head,
Don't think of winter, laugh with wind instead.
This city runs and spins and never stops,
It may does not seem right, but still it's true,
And though we've learned in school the word "collapse",
The world will never go it through.
All sorrows made for balance or for feelings,
It doesn't really matter if you fall,
My dear flower, open up yourself, rain's healing,
And even rock from which you grew will someday roll.
My dear flower
© Copyright: Андрей Константинов 3, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121051406260
Свидетельство о публикации №121051406260
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