Power my Youth

Power my youth
I only exist in early January’s days!

Oh, my chance of reborn again has been gone
Make me again;…
As if I was a word, waiting to be written

Write me in old books, on the margin where I can stand alone
Is it over yet?
Keep writing
Keep making

Number me out, and write me again !
Outside, I stand alone
Observing February to come soon
Cold, obstinate, odd

Comes March
My beauty vanishes
And your month is harsh

April heads the circles of lies
Slowly, May sneaks and flourishes
Excluding my youth from encountering
Its beauty, its depth

Freely, June begins
It forgets my last twenty years and demolishes
Every remaining beauty sign of me

Please, July be easy on me
Easy on me;
As I was greedy
Greedy enough,

In your confusing nights
Next to the gutter
Behind my uncle’s farm
Months go by

See, I never hated yellow October
Write me in October
in cold temper
I will never grow old loving your sense of humor!

Jealously, comes November
Jamming all my memories

Into the first night of December
When you first called me
Gesturing to a false sight of fire
I glanced away

Fire me up
See, it is never over
We still have twelve months to be born again!

in late December nights
Write me words in your poetry
Bring back my stolen youth
That has been taking by you monthly


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