The kindest Gentleman in the World didn’t show his kindness at all.
Many years ago he had a heart of gold, now instead of it there’s a hole.
Too many lies around him, betrayals, cheating, wars
Left thousands of wounds on his soft young skin,
Closed in front of him all the doors...
Trying to forget those incidents, that he didn’t want to remember,
The Gentleman blocked the insolence which spoiled his positive temper.
Under the wish of some inner forces he left all the social websites,
Deleted his photos, mixed internet sources,
Lost hope of seeing the sunlight...
Worked as a writer, a mathematician, created a musical club,
Dreamed of becoming a famous musician, loved to drink at a pub.
Smoked too much and covered himself with heavy poisonous air,
Had millions of wise thoughts on his bookshelf,
Was brave enough to be fair.
Sitting on the sofa, drinking tea, he dreamed of a better life,
Where people around are no longer enemies, nobody behind has a knife.
Feeling helpless, broken, sad he sat for hours and wondered,
Why nations were so cruel and mad,
Why they stole each others’ thunders.
He charged the battery of his phone once a week and even more seldom.
The gadget remained thrown on the floor – calls were unwelcome.
The Gentleman’s doorbell didn’t ring, he was the slave of silence.
His autumns were exactly like springs,
For him the time was timeless...
Once he fell asleep in the armchair, with a hope to see a direction.
Waking up, he could smell, that the air was full of wet infections.
The ceiling of his room was covered with ugly stains.
As usual, sadness and gloom
Covered his soul and brain.
Published in "Gazeta RAU" online newspaper of the Russian-Armenian University