We got older

< Leah Altukhova



We got older, my mother,
everywhere squabbles, wounds,
They laid down their drama,
destroyed all the temples ...
I stopped believing
and sing ... I stopped ...
start over again,
getting off the pedestal.
We too have matured,
forgotten carousel,
partially turned gray,
and that somehow failed to ...
There was, - scattered
himself on the line.
And, believe me, I'm tired,
so that I did not yield.
Tramped the roads,
lived half,
and all the spit in my back,
and put deadlines.
Upholstering their thresholds,
and conquer the summit,
and having bought the machine,
and rubberized tires,

we got the scars ...
We got older, my mother ...