The carpets
That carpet, blue-white
Truly was great
History
I lost it to trust
Other too
‘Asymmetric'
Worth a lot
She complains.
I smile.
She tells me:
"I'm not shit."
That's ex-wife
That's the one
Who never
Never ever
Understands
Let me stop.
Makes me mad
Carpet was Great War
The Ayyub's with Richard
The Europe and Islam
The writing
Not Latin not Arab
Yerevan's
And she lost
She is dumb.
The latter
Asymmetric by mistake
Became art; valuable
She left it to the cat with claws
"I'm not shit"
She tells me
But she is
I was right
She is shit
She is shame
Makes me mad
I'm in pain
Going on I cannot
I left key with that shit
My home turned to a hell
I sure lost "My castle".
(It's no safe.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem