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.
Copyright © Tomi Dinh | Year Posted 2023
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