I will never be sad, I have become too old.
I have a crunch of cabbage heals bones and strengthens the joint.
My cell is empty, no reproaches, no rules, I myself write the charter, contract and regulation.
Leaning your hands in the gray gravel of the crossbars, the flare of the screens and the stage in the salute swings.
I wouldn’t have dived there, there was a scent of currencies and gloss, but it’s so far from lies and blunders that they don’t call me.
I am looking for beans sorting out ash, I pass the ditch to fall into the resin and drown.
Spiteful burners will set it on fire and I’ll burn it, but it’s better than never to experience this diving.
It is better to fall in battle, taking an unsafe path with a path than to crumple an already crumpled sunbed with an empty body.
And every time there is a chance a sheet of aspen trembling for my mother’s skirt, holding on there to stay.
This moment will be the longest, like a long jump without insurance and a cable.
Immediately down, so that the winds of the wave, ascend above the ground, give air.
These blasphemy and criticism became close, her fist swiftly drives doubtful talent into the mud.
He puts the brains in place of the old cogs, thank you: I'm part of a copy machine, well, compare it with him. Fortune pulls a hand and beckons with a finger, but instead of a joyful cry, a small moan is heard, a small verse on the writing desk, on a crumpled piece of paper, that’s all I put to this troubled versus.
And standing at the cliff, behind - clouds of dust, ahead - prospects, only zero chances.
It would be happy to compete with them right now, but they say in vain I can’t rock this yacht, and they are waiting for a departure. Attempt in vain, sit and noah, why do you need a carved throne, there are sawdust and slivers at your feet, this is your choice.
And I shake my head, inhale, exhale.
Will have to jump.
