дочь
Дочь написала стихотворение и разместила его в своем блоге. Единственный комментарий оставила ее мама.
Это так трогательно.
Если кому интересно, то вот это стихотворение:
Bloody Blues
Well Ive got the blood blurs sheathing my eyes
And my brain nerves are blurred too
Outside the ice block of world is encroaching
The heavy sound of dull footfalls approaching
As that damn heavy grey tries to steal them away;
My lovely warm colours who curl round one another
Oh I do hate that grey
How I do dread the day.
Well I’ve got the blood blurs impeding my motions
As I sluggishly sloth through their blurry blood oceans
Inside is a steady rise and dip of emotions
Contortions, contorting in the face of explosions
Bursts of charcoal, misery’s hollow cackle
Oh I do see the grey
But my thoughts steer away.
How these blood blurs have the tendency to steer ya
Towards negative thinking, then draw back as you linger
On the dark spots of reality as they gently creep nearer.
I don’t want to be blue, I don’t want to be blurry
I need to compel my ghost to swell out of this hazy cell
This static shell
The lovely colours dozing sweetly
As this soft core war pulses within myself
Success is a challenge but I slip into the balance
Through force of luck as well as fatigue
And a generally insistent join-di-vivre
Real hearts and real minds beat and spark
Together outside in the dark
And despite of the bark
And the growl of the greyhounds, eyes dull and glazed
In the focus of colour
The grey ebbs away.
Это так трогательно.
Если кому интересно, то вот это стихотворение:
Bloody Blues
Well Ive got the blood blurs sheathing my eyes
And my brain nerves are blurred too
Outside the ice block of world is encroaching
The heavy sound of dull footfalls approaching
As that damn heavy grey tries to steal them away;
My lovely warm colours who curl round one another
Oh I do hate that grey
How I do dread the day.
Well I’ve got the blood blurs impeding my motions
As I sluggishly sloth through their blurry blood oceans
Inside is a steady rise and dip of emotions
Contortions, contorting in the face of explosions
Bursts of charcoal, misery’s hollow cackle
Oh I do see the grey
But my thoughts steer away.
How these blood blurs have the tendency to steer ya
Towards negative thinking, then draw back as you linger
On the dark spots of reality as they gently creep nearer.
I don’t want to be blue, I don’t want to be blurry
I need to compel my ghost to swell out of this hazy cell
This static shell
The lovely colours dozing sweetly
As this soft core war pulses within myself
Success is a challenge but I slip into the balance
Through force of luck as well as fatigue
And a generally insistent join-di-vivre
Real hearts and real minds beat and spark
Together outside in the dark
And despite of the bark
And the growl of the greyhounds, eyes dull and glazed
In the focus of colour
The grey ebbs away.