Birthdays Make Me Cry

Posted on April 19, 2011


My birthday doesn’t arrive, it looms,

As a dreadful eventuality might,

So I wait with trepidation,

Fearing the impending doom.

Birthdays make me introspect,

Everything seems wrong in retrospect,

Everyone else appears successful and happy,

And I am left to nurse my dampened mood.

A birthday is just another day,

But on that day I just seem to regress,

You’d think I’d know it will pass,

But instead I mope in distress.

All the goals not reached,

All the hurt caused and felt,

Come together and stand in line,

To celebrate and revel.

And the only way to stop the pain,

Is to make another list of plans and dreams,

And I know better, yet I succumb and write,

While my insides revolt and scream!

When the list is ready, the ransom is paid,

And the current birthday is set free,

The next one to fear is still a year away,

And I sigh, “happy birthday to me”!

Posted in: attitude, poetry