He like to watch foreign films

With the sound off

Reading the subtitles

He likes listening to music

His lips mouthing out the lyrics

With his headphones on

He watches me while I sleep

Only getting a few hours himself

Touching my skin softly

He read Russian novels

Then tells me about them

Only at the breakfast table

He makes me dinner

Once a week

With candles burning on a roof top

He has the most beautiful green eyes

The friendliest smile

And hair as dark at the night

He makes love


Whispering sweet things in my ear

He writes songs

Alone in a room

With a bottle of vodka

Coming out only to mumble


And curse at me

He often cries

In my arms

As I rock him to sleep

Life is never quite right

The past always comes up

Something we never forget

He has nightmares


Crying in the early morning hours

He says there is no God

I never argued

He is only a boy with sad eyes.