Писарев Юрий Александрович : другие произведения.

Off the chest

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All the songs that i wrote
Were so helpless. 
I couldn't show them to anyone in this world,
I would be eaten alive.
They turned out to be stones
That were lying on my chest
And i got the maximum pain
By the minimum trying.

All the girls that i've known
were so ruthless
you wouldn't have them for anything in this world -
they would tear you apart.
They turned out to be snakes
that were curling round the nest.
And it's first a kiss on the lips
then a sting in the heart. 

Like that man with an arm
that was golden
and he was ever afraid to lay it to eye - 
they could've chopped it at once,
I was hiding my life
from the others,
so they wouldn't see.
Now i'm in need for someone to look,
to cast even a glance. 

But maybe now my pain will go аnd i'll have a life.
Maybe my widgets stop bothering me late at night.
And through the day i won't be hassled by my urges anymore.
I won't be afraid. 
I won't call it a day 
When the week has just begun.

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Новые книги авторов СИ, вышедшие из печати:
О.Болдырева "Крадуш. Чужие души" М.Николаев "Вторжение на Землю"

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