When youngsters-forty-year-olds
Will fill the cup of measure by the madness
When wise men will get tired of words
Trying to keep old order’s sadness
The firmament will smile with cry
And with unique and happy smile
And a new symbol‘ll bloom in sky
Forgiving us for little while
And everything that meant to be
Will open up and throw off bonds
And old without stirring sins
Will leave without “pros” and “cons”
We’ll live a bit, but with more fun
We'll see that haven't seen before
And sweet and Early March gold sun
Will satisfy our bleeding core
And all’ll be fine. Isn't path the right?
God, give me might to see right light!
The right way
© Copyright: Вениамин Понкратов, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125030104312
Свидетельство о публикации №125030104312
Рецензии