Asylum
Just looks an very ghostly omen.
You are the goal, hope is a bowmen.
Each to his own, because she yawned.
The bluish sea, the bluish sky...
A lot of gray among the crowd.
You do not cry, I don`t me proud.
I hope to get a second try.
There is not worth, believe me, sir.
Birds in the sky donate a feather.
We don't die while we're together.
Do flap by flap. Don't feel my tear.
Picture: Andrew Wyeth. Asylum.1985.
Свидетельство о публикации №124010407310