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.
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