The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
The girl drew a heart on my coffee cup.
But that does not mean she likes me.
She does it for everyone
Like the butterfly kissing every flower
Without laying an egg in any one of them,
Because the petals are too weak to hold the pupa.
The girl drew a heart on my coffee cup.
But that does not mean she likes me.
She does it for everyone.
They have cool jazz.
But I’m not going into that cafe
Ever again.
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