After midnight. After the time
When there are no minutes to spare.
I am trying to – just like a mime –
To keep up with your forbearance
Of this world, all painted in black
And other not jolly colours.
I am feeling myself a wreck.
I am disgusted with all the others,
With those who treat me so kind,
Saying, “Be strong, my dear!”
I can’t get you out of my mind.
The night is horribly weird.
Sept.2002
Weird night
© Copyright: Нина Вольга, 2023
Свидетельство о публикации №123033007456
Свидетельство о публикации №123033007456
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