Mesec crne kesice
Ja sam net zagadjivac.Serijski ubica web prostora.Hronicno neispavani student.Umorni radnik.Nezahvalna cerka.Neverna devojka.Obicni hipohondar.Bedno piskaralo.Snowboarder bez sezonske karte.Zahtevna sestra.A mogla sam eto da budem nesto egzoticnije.Kusac u fabrici cokolade.Ulicni zabavljac.Ali ne obican...kao Piksi recimo.Rudar.Kao Mirza.Grobar.Kao Pantelija.Prodavacica karanfila.Kao Perica.Narkoman.Kao Brzi.A obecavala sam.Kao Slobodan.Al` postadoh serijski ubica.Strah i trepet slobodnog web prostora.Dezurni blogovski smarac s verbalnom dijarejom.
Ovaj mesec bice mesec crne kesice.Povraca mi se od njega.A nisam trudna.Nisam pokvarila stomak.I u stilu meseca crne kesice :
No bravery
There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
Tears drying on their face.
He has been here.
Brothers lie in shallow graves.
Fathers lost without a trace.
A nation blind to their disgrace,
Since he's been here.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
Houses burnt beyond repair.
The smell of death is in the air.
A woman weeping in despair says,
He has been here.
Tracer lighting up the sky.
It's another families‚ turn to die.
A child afraid to even cry out says,
He has been here.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
There are children standing here,
Arms outstretched into the sky,
But no one asks the question why,
He has been here.
Old men kneel and accept their fate.
Wives and daughters cut and raped.
A generation drenched in hate.
Yes, he has been here.
And I see no bravery,
No bravery in your eyes anymore.
Only sadness.
J.B
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