Стихи и рассказы из категории its

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And as it's going often at love's breaking,
The ghost of first days came again to us,
The silver willow through window then stretched in,
The silver beauty of her gentle branches
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It's no use
Mother dear,
I
can't finish my
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I don't know what it is, but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot
It makes me nervous
I don't say the right things or perhaps I start to examine, evaluate, compute what I am saying
If I say, "Do you think it's go...
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I am writing these
From inside a lion,
And it's rather dark in here
So please excuse the
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What is death,
I ask
What is life, you ask
I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling off toward Nirvana
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It's hard to know if you're alive or dead When steel and fire go roaring through your head
One moment you'll be crouching at your gun Traversing, mowing heaps down half in fun:
The next, you choke and clutch at your right breast - No tim...
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I stand in the advancing light,my hands hungry, the world beautiful
My eyes can't get enough of the trees—they're so hopeful, so green
A sunny road runs through the mulberries,
I'm at the window of the prison infirmary
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