НЕ ЛЪЖЕТЕ ДЕЦАТА

                                                                 Вместо песен.

                                          Ранената птица

                                                    се удари в стъклата.

                                          Тя заплака от болка

                                                     и заплиска дъждът.

                                           Не лъжете децата,

                                                      че е страшна тъмата.

                                            Не лъжете и утрото,

                                                        че не свършва денят.

                                             Сутрин рано момичето

                                                           мете прахоляка.

                                              Малка, прашна принцеса,

                                                         тя владее мига.

                                               Нека винаги помнят,

                                                          нея времето чака.

                                                Бедна, голата хубост,

                                                            дето ражда света.

                                                 Младостта не лъжете,

                                                             че любовта е безумна.

                                                  Наречете я простичко -

                                                                малката смърт.

                                                   И проверете - примерно -

                                                                 при пълнолуние,

                                                    как бие сърцето,

                                                                 щом той или тя

                                                      при вас пак седят.

                                                              Не мислете, че вече

                                                      обичта не е свята.

                                                                Идва босата майка,

                                                       носи детска игра.

                                                     И не жалете за добротата.

                                                     Един, днес, удавник спаси,

                                                            него - взе го смъртта.

                                                      Не крийте как мъката

                                                                        ражда надежда,

                                                        а вярата чака

                                                                       желана мечта,

                                                         в която човекът

                                                                       щастлив се оглежда,

                                                          че е смъртен забравя,

                                                                        познал вечността.

                                                                         Wali (Виолета Томова)