January, a Poem

Before she grew up, translated…

Born on January First, with a Very Weakened Health Status

In the Distant Skies, at the Trees Up Close, on the Peak of the Tower, in the Yard

Up on the Roofs, at the Large Window Panes

At that Clock, Tick-Tocking Away, Hung, on the Walls

With the Thin Features, and the Long, Slender Hair

The Thinned-Out Bosoms, the Slender Waistline

With Those Thinned Thoughts, and

The Thinly Emotions Too

Turning Thirteen, at Birth, on January First

The First Love Was Found

Like that Thinly Fallen Snow,

Silent and Unknown, as It’d, Hit the Ground

not my photo…

Not Like Smokes, or Fogs Either

Silently, Just Loved the White-Colored Feather-Filled Coats

Dancing, in a Corner of the Cramped Up Corner of a Residence

Outside of the Sceneries Outdoors

Within My Tender Heart

Those Years that Came and Went, Unknown to Me

She’s Forever Thirteen in January

And, Her Thirteen Years, Still Very Fresh and Young Looking

Clean, and Beautiful

Beautiful, and without Hatred

So, this, is someone, who’d, maintained her innocence, despite how messed up the world is outside of her, and, this is, before the girl grows up, she’ll always and forever stay, pure and uphold her childhood innocence, never losing that.