Blinka, trepće, ruka mi se kreće,
evo, sve po tastaturi kuckam,
ne gledam, samo pišem, dobacujem,
ideje smišljam, prstima puckam.
A, tamo voda šumi, nikad ne spava,
jorganom se pokrila, čaj crni pije,
oslonila na žutu komodu i sanja,
a jorgan žuti, samo miriše i grije.
Bijeli svijet, na drugom sam kraju,
nemiran malo, slušam psa što reži,
al' u nekim trenucima, malo u raju,
jer laptop fiksni, na jorganu leži.
Pospan možda jesam, al' me to budi,
ne znam šta da mislim, kažem,
u meni se komeša, šta je to ljudi,
bio sam super, a sad suze slažem,
Evo satima mi Facebook oglas plasira,
nade ima, riješiće se crna misao,
ona kaže spavaj, virtualno me masira,
umoran da, ali njoj bih pjesmu pisao.
Copyright © 2021-07-07 01:00:03.908884+03 by Jean Marc Louis.
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