***
I saw the icy-est despise
In his, like olives, black-ish eyes.
And, even shorter, than the rest,
He held himself, like Everest.
He smelled like danger, and like death.
His hate inside of him compressed.
And everyone to him - beneath,
Must lay by feet, stay on your knees.
I saw this man on a busy street.
No one dared speak to him, or greet.
Who was this man, who stood so proud?
I am not inclined to find it out.
***
© Copyright: Ольга Вярси, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №224081400035
Свидетельство о публикации №224081400035
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