END

It totally ends,
But it`s not a win.
And trumps are spades,
Not hearts as it always been

Trying to reach your mind,
Trying to have your time,
Straight as a perfect line
In my softcornered clime.

Truly, why I`m still sitting
Here, without the sense and thought
Spending miself in feels beating?
Am I need a support?
(2011)