The same routine of birthday cakes, well wishers and the classic tuned birthday song,
Memories take me back to when i was 9, party caps and balloons, friends cheering all along,
It was just another normal night until i realised tomorrow was my so called birthday,
I hear the clock strike 12 am and my phone buzzed with calls and texts that they had to say,
I wiped my tears away and ended my talk with the moon, quickly plastering a wide smile,
They "hope" I'm in "good health and happiness" , i nod yes, through my teeth I lie,
I carry myself in front of the mirror to ask it "what's the purpose of all this?
when I've drowned in tears about losing patience on waiting for life's bliss,
Tell me what's so special about the day i was born,
It would pass away just like another 24 hour long,
I knock on the mirror twice for its response and wait until I sigh,
"dear, nothing was special on the day you were born until it heard you cry"
YOU ARE READING
salt and sugar | ✓
Poetry❝ i screamed profanities to be heard by, but no one did so on paper i relied ❞ A collection that contains pieces of raw emotions, 3 am thoughts and gut - wrenching feelings. poetry // prose salt and sugar™ © lovetinted | 2020
