January

Brings a beloved memory life cannot celebrate.

Brings a girlhood festivity that is not relived again,

   Or relived with muffled pain...

Brings unforgettable birthdays of someone’s first love,

   That foolishly matters when life goes by unloved...

Brings a few deaths, of they who loved me once.

Brings a year, a new one, brought to me perhaps by chance.

When its January, I want to run away,

When its January, I want to pass a silent day,

When its January, I want to get over,

Get over with a month this way.

When its January, some day -

I'd want to get over with a life.

This way.