Tell my mamma I´m OK and then go

There is a time, a long time ago, when I was a child and you hadn’t even been born.

I used to play in that time. I used to play. Years passed by and my lonely life changed and looked as twice, your father and I, one plus one, that means twice.

Then more years, and then you appeared to full my heart.

But fast the army owned your father and in the field he died.

Now, more years, and the army still owning things which are mine.

YOU CAN’T GO! PLEASE, MY SON, DON’T GO!

It seems that this moving chair will be the only good in my life, and those graves, anger, knowledge, all ahead my chest are the fuel which make my own life, move back and forward.


RS