Better not to talk about certain things

Fools of us
Who love to write
For a Month
Non stop
Til the lights
Of the 30th
Come to die
Fool of me
Swim I will
The waters I never
Dared to try
Those of  death
and of dying
Explore I will
What I feel
What I thought
I am getting
Any younger
Not
Time to talk
To me
About that

Merry Month
To All

Solo Un Tonto

Only a Fool

Could commit on this Spring day 
To a full month of Poetry