SCARS XXVII

  •  
  • 231
  • 0
  • 0
  • English 
Sep 17, 2017 14:33
SCARS XXVII

Inside a little box
of magic spheres of yours
you might get some pills
some day and dreaming

Your youngish skins
your teeny tiny lips of blood
a warm cool heart that
won`t betray you not soon

And nobody tomorrow
will disturb your sleep
and nobody tomorrow`ll be distracted
from those little things

That only count. Of the entire morning
nothing mine will ever comes
to you, except for a piece of rubbish-licorice
thrown up by a kid