Poetry,+The+Lesson

=The Lesson= (Return to Poetry)
 * 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 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.

(Return to Poetry)