Fourteen More Days (A Poem for Aya)
In fourteen more days, you will have been grown.
Gone from the hearth that has always been home.
Is it my heart or fear that wish you to stay?
Only time can say in fourteen more days.
In fourteen more days, a heartbeat to me.
Time, a fiend, how could I forsee?
How quickly you move, without any delays,
My soul for trade, to slow these fourteen more days.
In fourteen more days, a woman you'll be.
With beauty and reason granted to thee.
With kindness and virtue, this they all say.
So am I so selfish to keep it this way?
In fourteen more days, a shadow is what lies in your bed.
To hear the cock crow, now is to know,
I love you is what often should've been said.
In fourteen more days, I wish you the best.
With dreams in your bags, you'll be leaving the nest.
But to embrace the child is what I now pray.
And to keep her as such for fourteen more days.
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