Taking the false for the true,
I feel like a paper bird…
You do not trust me, do you?
Is it your right or my fault?
I`m waiting for your shot…
What is your hue? Are you blue?
Shall I drink this stellar dew?
Shall I leave or take a pew?
I shall decide it myself.
I will not give you the clue.
It`s my distrust from your shelf.
So am I still in your breath?
You have made my cold heart melt.
My mail address ends with 'ru'…
We are not false, we are true…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem