He kept on breathing the clogged atmosphere
In his old wheelchair
Watching the window
All he desired was
To hold all that flourishing filed
In his palms
As a heart
Which no longer belongs to him
A bit of happiness
Seen through the veil of tears
But he's just a crippled doll
Life has forgotten in the attic

Niciun comentariu:
Trimiteți un comentariu