Grey Model

Olga Ivashkina

Gray people are gray crawling
On a gray branch of a gray subway
Gray thoughts of mine do not understand,
Will be considered as stupid, - anyway
I look at the gray mirror wearily
I see my almost gray eyes
Gray I realize my gray guilt
I need to tell you about this
I'll go gray, crawl gray
On a gray branch of a gray subway
From the gray cold, all I'm shaking
I think sick, - anyway
I gray-gray to you, I'll squeeze,
You were waiting for me on the gray rain
I'll knock on the gray door of the soul
You will open to me and let me go
Inside - not dullness, inside the blackness
Nice caresses almost the eyes
Your love saved me from death
I want to thank you.