No written story tells about love.
It even mayn't be worth throwing a glove,
But still we live in expectations, still,
Just listening to hateful "Yeh, I will".
It permanently craves to be the Last,
And my dependence is explained with trust.
My lonely eyes are craving only Moon,
And fingers once again are touch'ng teaspoon.
I've never been the one and never shall.
The phrase "All right"'s pronounced pretty well.
According to the highest law of love,
I lose my soul, and angels sing above...
Is explained
© Copyright: Валерия Евсеева, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122051701766
Свидетельство о публикации №122051701766
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