September

	He never talked about it yet it remained and the emotion of it, again betrayed
	How could he hold his head high?
	He never talked about it again
	He said, let yourself be born again
	He said, all you were is all you'll be
	He couldn't live without it before the rain
	There's not regret about it
	While in the fray
	He took a spoonful of pain
	He didn't think about it, he said
	You'll go your own way
	First Sunday of
	September
	On this great day