Wisdom

Feel myself an ashtray
They are smoking all the time
And I am
A cinder collector
Тhe glass darkens
Soul goes blind
The same movie again
I had seen it once
Wisdom is born from the burnt paper,
My dear,
From the cognitive dissonance
From the f*cking faith in a second chance..
It's some kind of the deepest astray
When I'm still feeling myself an ashtray

Январь 2020