Poezja

It seems to me, 
I know her from somewhere.
The familiar eyes look at me.
A smile lights up her face.

She holds a diploma in hand
and  believes that she can easily
change a man and the world.
Naive girl.

Young mother
Matured with love.
Secrets of the night were to be
The happiness of days.

Woman in suit.
Screw of  corporations.
Sells her soul for pennies.
One day she will wake up.

Time is merciful
It steals moments from memory
Leaves only small fragments
and whispers of her