I died yesterday by the river at a bend
in the Bryansk swamps, in the Afghan mountains...
My heart was still beating for a long time tuk-tuk-tuk...
The sun was caressing me in the palms of my numb hands
The scent of pine trees and grasses breathed lightly through the bullet holes...
died... but in the memory of the porch of the house, my mother and my brothers
propped up the well with the yoke of a past fate...
I'm still alive, but the muscles don't bend
the hair from my eyes I can't shake
it with my tooth, biting my eggs
along the ditches of war, crawling on the run...
Солнце ещё долго мои теплые ладони ласкало
Wars... Что Суки, а просто - просто так жить не умеем ?
Где мои 20... Но и сейчас смогу разорвать на молекулы всех засранцев
© Copyright: Roman Yartsev, 2020
Certificate of publication No. 120053108786
WAR
© Copyright: Роман Ярцев, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121060201097
Свидетельство о публикации №121060201097
Рецензии
