february

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I can make history By activating the youth As effective and honorably as Sojourner Truth I Can make history By guiding my fellow brethren Leading them to freedom like Harriet Tubman I Can Make history
Dear spring,   Oh, the melodic goldfinch birds would flutter Around the needles of the pine, a figure eight they would weave Crisp air with nestlings of twigs, humans could perceive
When I was a child And you were a child, A book was shared With epics compiled. I’ve declared my acceptance Yet, all the while, My fervid mind from adolescence
My mother is weak And I cannot stand it She is feeble, stupid, and plain Who are you? And where is the woman that I once knew? You’re a weakling, darling A scaredy little ghost
I've gone through adequate measures to beat the monster that resides within me This thing lay secreted beneath the surface of my skin Readying to rupture out at any which moment
His face was like looking at time itself Everything moving froze in his wake A chilling daze spread throughout his cheek As if one had now crossed over his own cemetery His nose was curved up into a vicious beak
  We are two different sides of the same soul This I say to you, my friend Lover’s Lane shall never end When we are finally together again   And I’ll let you know one thing is true
Young lust Simmers deeper than a gigantic tidal wave The vivacious fusion of the two bodies Begins to peak into the uppermost realm of infatuation  As they cover each other with outer warmth
Always by your side shall I stay
They call themselves boyfriends,But are they really?Yes, they’ve asked you out.Some don’t even do that.They message you dailyWorry about you every secondIf you don’t answer,They might even get mad
This I saw on a February day: Fluttering of wings in the tears of the sky, Slumped arms of a cheerless Camphor tree,
You didn't remember
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