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Stajali su tamo dječaci
Upoznavali algoritme grubosti.. i milosti
Letjele su iznad stakla ptice
Ogledale duše u oblacima male

Tekao je vazduh posve k’o zaboravljena datost
Izviđala su djeca linije na svojim dlanovima
Bila je obična sunčana nedjelja
Puna strahova i dobrote

Biti je mogao i mrak
Moglo je biti i šiblje i šilje ljudskoga nezadovoljstva
Zaista je moglo poći po zlu onako da upoznamo gospodina
Biti je moglo.., ali ptice lete

Nad rijekama koje trebaju transfuzije
Niz usamljene u prepunom gradu
Gdje malo majki hoće mnogo napuštene djece
Biti je mogao mrak.., ali život svjetlo je

 

Autor vaSionka

...loyal...lair, big time...brutal...again brutal...love all kids, especially those with autistic disorder...love music, that mathematics of all worlds...again loooooooove music...read, read and read even more...love to write...loooove to write poems&songs...tales...more tales...manicure nails, no, no, never...love to seek, seek big time...explore...love God...again love God, that greatest freak of all times... odd fellow...love major guy in the underworld...love equinox...indeed love equinox...mmmmmmm, love blood, that knowledge thing...don't know how to love...love myself mostly and ouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu...love freaks...again love freaks...all freaks...hate to share bed with anyone but one...love one grandmother and her son...her son...her dead son...love men...mmmmmmmm, love men with attitude...love men with attitude again...love gracefully women...mmmmmm, muses...adore troubadour...mmmmm...love night...again love night...love light...hate order...hate paper money...love symbols...adore symbols...love frustration...love hard lesson...tatoo...mmmmmmmm, haaaaaard lesson...

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