Is it late?

It is late - there is no way back It is late - every one lives in his own world It is late - when the words hurts It is late - when out hearts hurts too It is late - only the remind this hour may be is bridge between us It is late - just like erect on a dead-wall without guilt we are guilty with you fot the first time Farewell, hope to be happy somewhere far from me another love more beautiful i know it will reach u one day P>S> Juast like a song

:)))) U have letter

znachi vse pak si tuk?:)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

Philip Larkin Next, Please Always too eager for the future, we Pick up bad habits of expectancy. Something is always approaching; every day Till then we say, Watching from a bluff the tiny, clear, Sparcling armada of promises draw near. How slow they are! And how much time they waste, Refusing to make haste! Yet still they leave us holding wretched stalks Of dissapointment, for, though nothing balks Each big approach, leaning with brasswork prinked, Each rope distinct, Flagged, and the figurehead with golden tits Arching our way, it never ahchors; it's No sooner present than it turns to past. Right to the last We think each one will heave to and unload All good into our lives, all we are owed For waiting so devoutly and so long. But we are wrong: Only one ship is seeking us, a black- Sailed unfamiliar, towing at her back A huge and birdless silence. In her wake No waters breed or break.