child
Take me as a child, Mom!
I do not want this life adult.
And weave daisies in braids.
At heart, heal my scars ...
I'm tired here, to be honest.
Just hug your shoulders
And to the breast press harder,
Take me, Mom, as a child.
In this yard, where the swings creak,
Where the asphalt is chalked,
Where it breathed easily and boldly,
Where fervently sported was great.
There quickly healed wounds,
After all, sometimes knees got stuck.
For lunch, milk and croutons ...
Call me as a child, Mom!
Steepshot