The Lesson

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.

By: Robert Frost