Dozhdlivy day
in late June
My number 93.
I do not remember,
I thought then,
For the first time he felt the world.
My sister and I were raised
In a poor family,
But do not say,
That just the poor.
We learned to love it,
That we have.
And if the attached matter.
In the seventh year already I drank for two,
I put greasy hair in Kez.
We cut in a column in the punk rock
Dancing and singing
And mutili swipes at all.
Every day at school
getting pussy
Anyway she protested.
Mom and Dad were trying to believe in me
When many cross set.
11th year
I have grown up
Once I tried to learn,
Hang out and work.
My experienced binge
48 weeks
After the bottle is always
Backyard.
As the time to take time off
Mother day
I ran away from home
By as much as six months.
That's when I gained
Of real friends.
Having lost faith in God.
Garbage breathed our backs,
But they are not 7 genius.
Well, we do not hurry
We drink up pivas
And threw the bottle into the crowd.
Crowded Cop paddy
And Bonehead on every step.
Yes, it happened,
What we got in a trouble,
But Ssali polish
Mug enemy.
Keeping silence two years
Pills, doctors, work,
Rare attacks.
hang out for the first time
For a long time
cops rinsed brains in the department.
And again began to turn:
Gigi in garages,
Drunken train Kurovskoe, peter,
Vodka on okologigah,
Fights, cries, screams.
All this was and is,
But not now.
Dreary evil merry youth
The carotid reddened eyes
I'm tired, and choke the words,
How they were able to gain a foothold on the lips.
