18.04.2014 в 16:31
Пишет
Henry Nightingale:
Dead poets fall in love
with charming odes.
Dead poets sow and grow
a vision of the thoughts.
They do so many things
I never did.
They know all secret words,
they know, indeed.
When one dies all in pain -
the poets will survive.
With poison in their veins -
they will revive!
Why every poet is
a little boy?
Why every poet feels
no fear, no joy?
@темы:
Nothing,
True love :3,
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