A month named after Maia
A transition from spring to summer
24 rotations on its axis
19 circles round the Sun
A boy born, his future uncertain
Years of hardship, keep enduring pain
Heart shattered at 16,
And haven’t recovered from the loss
Her body cremated and ashes in the river
Never got a chance to bid farewell
Turned 17, oh what a miserable life
School life turned to hell, full of rumors and lies
At 18, graduated from school
His efforts and work never came to ripe
I hope you’re okay on this fine Friday
Accept my regards as this poet turns 19
Cause I haven’t given up yet