• artistano1 52w


    This is a lost passenger station.
    Those who do not hope are waiting here.
    I'm waiting for myself.
    Friday is Wednesday.
    Wednesday is gray.

    Roaring and howling trains.
    Second, fifth, hundredth, blue ...
    They pass.
    They're coming.
    Crumbs small, dotted, wet
    And those fat words
    These is my stage
    Bloody money for a little fun
    Blind people run in rage.

    I want words and excuses here.
    Here I want to trample everything.
    To love and be silent, to hurt.
    Here is the stain of Anna Karenina,
    I'm writing.
    Great writers also died here.
    Later i will sing.

    This is the last stop of my youth.
    There are those who are afraid.
    There I light a fire
    That's where I stand.
    Maybe I'll love you on the wire...

    "Graveyard Lullaby"
    By artistano1
    @miraquill @writersnetwork #genuine_readers

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    Graveyard lullaby