They will never know
What a well-according thing
Is to walk here in the snow this spring.
Those flakes were in your lashes,
Like flowers in the skies
Like those old camera's flashes,
That lighted my tries.
The temperatures are falling,
What an appalling thing,
This cold makes me recall those springs.
Like a mere schizophrenic
I keep remembering you,
A really academic case of blue.
The worst part of all this is
We'll never meet again,
We're out of this spontaneous migraine.
Our everything is melting
Like this generic snow,
And it sounds like being back to selves again.
The Аpril Snow Performed
© Copyright: Пол Фил, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №225040701906
Свидетельство о публикации №225040701906
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