Poetry Month is upon us, and even though I'm a few days late, I figured it's better late than never! I'm not sure how many poems I'll post per day (or what type), but definitely at least one a day will be guaranteed.
TS Eliot once wrote
"April is the cruellest month"
And I find I must agree.
For what other month
Reminds you of the finitude of Life?
The birth of the month holds
A celebration,
For one less year of life.
April Fools indeed,
Who don't believe
Birthdays are in truth
Anniversaries of mortality.
At the prime,
Reminded that Death
Is the only other certainty.
While cheerless skies
Reflect the morbid Truth.
And at final breath, April
Dies an unmourned death.
The gloomy people and rainy moods
Begin to give way to reluctant blooms,
Dragged unwillingly towards the surface
Only to be plucked
From the home they cling to
By boys and girls
Attempting to preserve
Their wilting childhood.
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