My Little Paris

Who did know,
that I`ll become
what I am now.
Who realised,
that my teen dreams
were on a way down.
Though now I`m conscious,
the devoture of mine
here lies, here I`ve found it.
Now no embarrassment,
no innocent thoughts
in Little Paris, a bit - Florence.
Its daint subtlety,
its means of thinking freely,
with broken nose, however,
but makes me feel at home.
Though call me alien and psycho,
it`s but my Second Rome.

Other works by Taras Kovaliuk ...