She lives at dawn
And listening to & quot; The Beatles & quot; in the morning,
She lives on the Internet,
The site & quot; & quot ;. Odinochestvo.ru
She loses the clock and collects minutes
She lives for some unearthly hour.
She comes home from work and immediately into the computer,
She does not believe other miracles.
She threw the book
year and not watering the flowers.
Her friends - it nicks
Men virtual dreams.
In the kitchen - a mound of dirty dishes a plenty,
And without any consequences is scattered salt.
But she do not care, she wanders through the chats
And writing letters under the name gonna.
She weaves a web,
It lies in wait for him.
It is, of course, blonde,
She was not and twenty-one.
It does not tolerate goons and does not tolerate slackers,
She needs the real, that syschetsya himself.
In her ears Makarevich, & quot; Secret & quot; Mitya -
She does not believe another voice.
But in the search engine
Always the same fiasco.
What's the use to click on,
What's the point to remember about the past ...
Thirty-sixth birthday - so homeless,
When no one comes and everything behind.
She currently presented here is a computer
And life began again to twenty.
Wait, life,
by not pass.
He's here,
it is also one of the network.
They lost again, like children,
They do not break these adult network.
Ask the right direction,
Craft Holy tailwind
its sails,
and then himself.
And let fate will cost
no special effects,
let him trust
miracles.
When entangled tight
In the space of electronic snare,
They miss each other
The site & quot; Solitude. no & quot ;,
It will disable the computer - and end hibernation;
And outside snow fell first piercing.
And there, on the white snow, living cursor looms
Long-promised her people.
One with its benchmark dissimilar only in a small,
Together they speak the same language -
A man in a gray suit and tie scarlet,
With bend yellow guitar in his hand.
2005
