Poezija.Online

Sun is trying to kill me,
but its too far,
However, its raising our temperature bar.
Sun is trying to kill me,
but its too weak,
earth’s atmosphere is too thick
But that giant yellow thing is cunning,
it made us running, criccling, spinning,
it wants to kill everyone, to be just as it was on the beginning.
I saw it, standing up on the sky
with that vengeful look on its face,
it calls it self a star, such a disgrace