I would perish like a child
Ought to die before his birth
Never had a chance to glow
Never thought to be unborn
I would grimly stare at trees
Trying to explore the hidden
Secret of being so brittle
While reviving, time to time
I’d attempt to write a prose
More obscure than same of Walles
Lesser would know where my notes
Then will go, deceived by bodies
I’d decide to live a life
Of a speachless dumbo writer
Dim as fast as flame of lighter
When it runs off all the gas
I would try to comprehend
What is purpose ‘o’ all of this
I’d at least die trying
I’d at least die trying.
diе 4 u
© Copyright: Натан Светлый, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124030100739
Свидетельство о публикации №124030100739
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