Happy Birthday
Memories trickle down my spine
Murmurs flood into my mind
Your scent is haunting my soul
This nightmare has been growing old
I blow out the candles yet again
Why must I have another year to spend?
Time is currency, and I wish to be poor.
A day spent in a curled up ball on the floor.
Another year, I should be grateful
But I can’t help but feel so hateful.
Wishing to be happy, happy with hope.
But you are the reason every year, I buy rope.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
