To me, to me
Happy Birthday
But why does it feel
like I have lost a fight
like a burden I am lit
with all these burning ice
blue as the sunlight
red as the wind
why do I regret
that I was born in the end
to me, to me
happy birthday
like mockery, like a joke
a spear spit
through my soul
blue as winter
red as fall
all I feel is kindness
for my dead soul
yet, I still regret
that I was born
YOU ARE READING
Poetic Intersections
PuisiHello, poetry. If you ever visit the website called Hello Poetry, then most of my finished work is published in there, I will leave the link below, https://hellopoetry.com/defeatedsuperhero
