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DON’T CREMATE MY YOUTH

___-let-children-choose-what-they-read-_-life-and-style-_-the-guardian1Every January, I close another chapter
Of the book laden with imagery
Imagery that stimulate my mind’s sight
And ear, and every sense towards life
The live that ignites the fire on my candle
That sets my dark room ablaze and warm
Distracting me from the freezing cold outside
From the harmattan that cracks lips open
That tears skins and breaks long hairs
That takes my youth two days at a time
That reminds me that rain always ceases
That the sun always sets
That night always comes
That a child must become an adult
That that adult must again become dust.

Every January, I close another chapter
Of the book that writes my story
Gentle January, can you start a new chapter
Without approaching the end of the story
Without taking my youth to the cliff
Without bringing me to the horizon’s base?
Can you not cremate my youth
That I may never grow old
Both in spirit and at heart?

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