The Newborn
Gray ocean splits in two…
The skyline of my past is dim,
And all I see is you.
The gray, the green, the earth beneath
Blunt honesty of rain
Speak so much more than birds of words
I try to net in vain.
Warm seashell of your palm as home
My naked feet now feel...
The mist of twilight, strangely so,
the only thing that’s real..
So, when I'm drunk enough to speak my heart,
Be there to hold my hand!
For, heart that speaks, can’t stand alone
on shaky, treacherous sand..
Свидетельство о публикации №121122300383