I know, Dad, you have no better friend than a full-bodied murky glass, a human vice to a prodigal container of liquid corruption with a short path to hell. Whether since your miserable years your mother has cursed you very badly, or your destiny has gone wild, the sweat on your forehead - dirty, burnt. Or because of the scarce possessions your eyes do not look anywhere, so the cup is the only vocation, the soul rots in disbelief. All the sins of the ages have overtaken us on the way, and your toasts are lonely, pouring into the heart and only sorrow. Blackened by the beastly poison and the table, I find a selga, and she, and you, and your mind, to watch you over it, always sitting. And how passionately you talk about the good old days, about that young soldier you burn, where in the memory of heavy still dormant. Ah, if I could, Dad, somehow get rid of your soul's winter, I would accept any evil that's right, even that,
1 average2010 answered
Very beautiful and strong, you can come up with nicknames, if you write more than one, to know who we are fans; e, :).