The Lesson
– 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 challenge.
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.