Etcetera
17 мая 2022 г., 10:25
They say I'm etcetera, is it a true?
They say there's nothing with me to do
If I were them, I would rather die
Than think up my tainted pride
Maybe I'm sick, maybe I'm gone
Maybe I'm searching for the gold
Maybe I'm dead, maybe I'm lost
Maybe I'm just reaching for my own
What a surprise! Lovely pain
Loves coming to me like every day
They don't understand much 'bout me
But already know that problems exist
Maybe I'm done, maybe I'm ghost
Maybe these walls somewhen will fall
Maybe I'm fed up, maybe I'm wasted
Maybe I've worn myself out too long
November 2021
Примечания:
Время экспериментов! На самом деле, это стихотворение давно покоилось недописанным в черновиках, но вот недавно я решила дать ему жизнь.
P. S. За полную грамотность не ручаюсь ;)
