Nastasimir Franović

Dubrovnik 12.04. 1960.
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There is nothing left

There is nothing left
Everything was washed away by the first autumn rain
Promises and oaths
Hopes and denials
Unborn children
The smell of your skin
The shine of your hair
Memories of your eyes
Sleepless nights

That's why I don't like the rain
No memories
No promises
No hope
There is nothing left
Nothing we loved
Nothing we wanted
Everything was washed away by the first autumn rain
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