It's been a year, a scary year,
The first without you.
And every month it's like a pier,
You come to cry to.
I know it's true, but can't believe,
You died so early.
I try to smile and not to grieve,
On place you're buried.
It's really hard to meet the guys,
Who overlived it.
They have the scars, the pain, the mind –
You're dead, it's really bullshit.
Some people joke, some smoke, some talk,
We all have our own ways,
But what's in common – we're still shocked,
You walked those stairways...
Жарова © 2022
A year without you
© Copyright: Нина Жарова, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122041707989
Свидетельство о публикации №122041707989
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