Brudne Wiersze

„Dreaming about what?"

Like Ophelia, in the lake.
Drowing for their hearts.
Give me one, first chance.
Maybe not first, but perhaps, I can live with that.
Like a poet, waiting for a full moon.
I see it turning black.
Take it away.
I don't want to hurt someone.
Maybe I do, but perhaps, I'll kill myself before you'll make me for that.
I can be pathetic.
I can be alive.
Only for dreaming.
Dreaming about all hearts.
But not 'bout mine.
It's flown away like a prayer for y'all.
I regret I could not face with that.
But who can face with painfull glass?
But maybe, we'll hide.
And we'll waiting for a star.
Only one.
I can't expect more than one.