I don’t know the hell I want;
yet, I do know what I don’t, -
to put on tightly wedding ring
and make a mess of living thing.
I don’t want to work for bums,
rubbing sore my skin on arms,
hustling people getting through,
quarreling by passing, too.
I know hell what living for:
washing dishes, cleaning floor,
begging humbly bank for loan,
and recount every coin.
Be ashamed with lousy dough
for the living not enough,
renting stinking hole for home,
and die there all along.
Begging cigarettes around,
lying boozed just on the ground, -
live without love and laugh,
blaming life for being tough.
I don’t know the hell I want;
yet, I do know what I don’t, -
let me not go harsh insane,
God, as people in Ukraine!
17.04.2019 г.