You know, dear diary,
Cupid, shot at him,
And I still, his fairy
But his actions are not clear ...

He is afraid, my mind,
Avoid my words,
He says he never cries
But I know that it is not.

He needs to drink a lot,
What would love another,
To say the heart and senses: Stop!
be a good loser.

Oh, silly Lovelace,
Knowing that, you love me,
He wants to be in place,
In a place where I will be.

Сипаткина Яна