Night ride home

Na bicykli, mala by byt zima, ale nie je, cez mraky vykukuje mesiac a tesi sa ako bude spln a bude svietit na nas vsetkych, tak zatial iba tak, kostovka, prazdne cesty, krizom krazom, z pruhu do pruhu, aj keby nieco slo, tak by ho bolo vidno na kilometer dopredu, vsetci spia, stromy tienuju oblohu, poulicne lampy bezstavnate sa vynaraju z horizontov, domov sa nechce, este sa nechce ukoncit tuto jazdu, namiesto doprava odbocujem dolava a idem smerom na dalsiu dedinu pod lesom, strieborna cesta, strieborna od mesiaca, realny svet vzdialeny facebooku, realny svet vzdialeny snom pracovitych ludi...
wish i was a poet
wish i knew to write
wish I could to live it
longer then a while
wish there were some more
wish we could once meet
wish we build a pile
of memories so sweet
wish there was river
with waves above a door
wish there was a boat
to take as so far
once more