Not a poet at all

Planet.

My planet is empty again.
Nothing at all - a blank slate.
My planet has been drank to the bottom,
And the heart is gnawed by a vile worm.

I'll put things in order again
I will plant trees here again
And I’ll bring a dozen animals.
They will give love.

And you have no way here.
You're breaking my dreams.
You're bringing evil here
And you burn my bridges.

***

Why these strange looks?
Like ice flies flying at your head.
I am not welcome in this world.
My sincerity is split again.

Kindness is out of fashion these days.
Money and lies lead here.
Because of this, all our troubles:
What goes around, my friend, comes around.

Souls are saturated with lies.

Our souls are saturated with lies
The masks are tightly glued to their faces.
You can hang yourself from falsehood,
Although it's easier to go and get drunk.

We are used to gnawing at our friends' throats,
Take victory at any cost.
There are sad notes in my voice again,
I choked on tears again.

Well, I’m not at all a poet by vocation. So, sometimes it comes to my soul