Black Balloons

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Balloons fill the clear blue sky.
Everyone chanting and cheering my name.
All of them asking the same damn thing.
"How old are you now?"
We don't talk and you still can't remember my name so stop trying.
But I'll continue to wrap my head around your antics.
Politely answer your generic questions.
Devour your insignificant cake.
As you try to sing me happy birthday.
Receive your pats on the back with the occasional gift cards given to me.
One read, "Cheers To Another Year."
Well isn't that cute.
To be honest I've never really understood birthdays.
It's kind of ironic because you celebrate another year closer toward your expiration date.
Our legacies decay along with the memory of us.
Barely scratching the surface of earth and everything life has to offer.
6/11/19
7:00 PM

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