My Poor Ukraine

Nobody wanted to die,

Everyone wanted to fly,

To see each other and understand,

To live on our beautiful land.

But nobody hears the man.

Where is the one who can

Hear you and understand?

The one who would be fair

And always would take care.

I don’t divide men by the color,

But my patience became smaller.

 Instead of the nightingale trills,

I have to take the pressure pills.

When will they be at last full?

It’s the game without a rule.

I want to add that the time will come,

And they’ll pronounce loudly ‘mom’.

When nations will live in one unity,

In one happy community.

Like  sisters and brothers,

Loving their fathers and mothers.





◄ An Autumn in November

Show me the country ... ►


No comments posted yet.

If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message