” bring back 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, to make love
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
Kiss my moldering cheek 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 kissed me
Gesturing to a false sight of fire
I glanced away
You stole a kiss from my exceptional lips
Fire me up
See, it is never over
We still have twelve months to be born again!
Possess me in late December nights
Write me words in your poetry
Bring back my stolen youth
That has been taking by you monthly

Haleema Al-aide

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