almost written by myself... though obviously i still borrowed the inspiration from a russian song by Zemfira.
Again the firecrackers shine.
I hid the stress in a pillow,
I saw a pussy-willow
In the home that’s not mine.
I was always a bad romantic,
I am scared of high roofs
And those games with blind folds
Have finally made me sarcastic.
Today I am home again.
As usually running in circles
Away from the terrible illness
Waiting for the next plane.
And I will reach my destination,
I know someday I’ll get it right,
Someday I will get my flight
And abandon the planes and stations.
Meanwhile under shaded lamps
We were warming our hands,
We were biting our lips,
We were turning into vamps.
At night I still felt breathless,
Listened to somebody crying,
Saw the pussy-willow dying.
I think it was probably useless.
It was all in all quite amusing:
Never get tired of flying.
But the hair was slowly greying,
And the clothes needed cleaning.
most of the thoughts here are not mine. most of the people who shared them are unknown to you. but then again, we know so little about other people, and internet takes good care that we will never learn more.
