Poem written by Saad El-Asha on Tuesday 18, September 2018

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Born in '89, I jokingly used to refer to my past by saying "Back in the early 90s / late 2000s …" / I was twenty three. Now I denounce it, as I denounce everything I thought it espoused profundities. I'd strip the night of what people said of it; It's only a shade, starless or otherwise. Far from the lee. It's when I don't refer to my past with dates to confuse my historical sensibility, where I might see siblings consoling each other of their parent's death, and I think of the dead, away from the almanac, near the toils of this quiet town, and I'd create a montage of what I in turn would like to say of it, of what I said of it, of what I heard of it … Thundering the world with the serenity of my voice, I go by – looking right and left, Surely over thirty-old-year-old.

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    You may be over thirty, but you still have a lot of living to do. Don't beat up on yourself too much, it can clog your brain and drag you down.
    Chill, man; it's only a poem. Grin