You know how does a rabbit run when it’s hunted?
That’s exactly how my ideas are walking trough my cells,
I want to renovate my brain, to see all the thoughts painted,
To write a poem about you, but my mind smells…
Myself, please, be kind and listen when I need you to
And tell me what to write about: cats, asses, France
Or Mother Russia’s cute boy? But, God, that’s…who?
Give me a better subject! A curly boy, a prince?
Love? That’s the way! You’re so romantic.
The real girl, the one that dreams and wish for better.
The one with the long hair, that is fantastic!
And you are not afraid to write a lover’s letter.
You are smart, mind opened, but such a child…
I could swear right now the happiness exist
If you would tell me so; you’re young, you can’t be wild.
But I don’t know if I’m on your good children list.