glueless
escapist
summer
whisky and dead dreams
poetry
of lying nation
world
felt is world seen
vagabond
is not an occupation
Black
flags and long moustaches
oily
handshake with boiling Devil
Smoking
alive, until we NO to stashes
Kill passion with other lives on telly
Skirts
in spring, staring to FUCK
bring
flowers and smell her hands
beauty
helps to pace when stuck
a
glueless escapist, planned not to plan
SO
THAT IS WHY I DID NOT PLAN AUTUMN IN THIS POEM.
Sorry
for my stormy nature,
open,
VULNERABLE
YES,
VULNERABLE
HEART.
