Poezja

it starts with sucking
the goodness of a happenstance
and end up with
a purple sigh
absentminded looking girl
vanished within
the anonymous cracks
of fortified walls
where both history and tragedy
coincide within
the story of a
blood refusing cannoneer
every molecules of it
will circulate
through the cacophony
of laughter
whims
and silent goodbyes
she's ok,
she's good,
she's fine
just give her some time
my dear,
until there's no more
nicotine turns into ashes
and 'til the bitterness
of the last dropp of brewed coffee
washes the stain
of a fleeting tear.