First story, not a song yet.
It was many year ago,
When I was little bit older than eleven years girl.
April, I am going home from school.
First love, fun with friends,
Freedom in the air.
And my parents finally decided to divorce,
Why finally, because nothing was working out.
At my eleven I could understand this.
In our apartment, chickens on the balcony,
Small pots with vegetables are everywhere, the dog..
All floor is white from the pieces of broken dishes,
My mom is crying, trying to tell me to go to my father,
Some friend told her we met secretly.
My sister is living with my grandmother.
I take a hammer and break everything else,
Our old furniture, walls.
My mom is scared, calling to my grandmother..
Sometimes after I thought,
She has rights to hate my father, men, everything she wants.
And I have right not to go with her.
That day I started to write simple poems about school love, friendship, life in our country...
