Another Year ... A Little Older

I use to have the worst birthday luck, this poem is a product of that.

 

Once again I must see

Myself live a little older.

It always comes

And with much SORROW.

Of all the days

Most things are going to go wrong,

That day will bring

DISAPPOINTMENT

HATE

SADNESS

WANTING

Nothing will stop it from happening,

Only if I wasn’t here,

And to celebrate it without me

Would be just another year...

Another year that wouldn’t be any different

From years past¼

There was nothing special about

One day out of so many more.

8 days will be MY BIRTHDAY

And I await in fear.