The Lesson by Maya Angelou


I keep on dying again.

Veins collapse, opening like the

small fists of sleeping Children.

Memory of old tombs,

Rotting flesh and worms do

Not convince me against

The Challenges. The years

And cold defeat live deep in

Lines along my face.

They dull my eyes, yet

I keep on dying

Because I love to live.

 

My Angelou.

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