Open the door…a familiar creaking parquet..And the clock…and smell the same…Only accustomed to the loud cry: Mom!,Will not receive now the answer…will Enter…and remember the old picture-You’re sadly sigh from the violet -Completely withered…dies…sorry…you’re a doctor, pick up the vaccine…without giving it a value,Like others of your experiences,employment sylables in justification,I Pray to you crying, for forgiveness…Sorry for not visiting-With time comes the inspiration…For the chance to be with you for another second,Now maybe everything would have traded it.The voice on the phone that you do not forget,My gray-haired, friendly old woman:Bake your favorite cheesecake!Will call, Missy?…What a joy!And now, whisper the Answer…well, where are you?!And want to understand everything, erasing the tears,What’s going on? In winter Morozyuk blossomed magnificent color;. .