Birthday is like a stomach ache
It comes and goes, in little pangs
It turns sour the day before, the sun sets too low
Bed seems more inviting, and people seem like dream devils
Chasing you with false smiles, down the dark corridors of the aging line
Reminding of the life passing by, celebrating death, one day at a time
When its about to come, euphoria rises
And its 12, and past 12 and you feel nothing
You sink, deep down into you
Hoping the day would pass soon
It comes and goes every year, it’s the same story, the same post
Going over and over, feeling the pangs, feeling the life force in you
It’s tiring, its birthday, celebrate your mother’s pain
Your journey ending, your soul fading.
So let’s celebrate death today, for its constant
Life is nothing but a fuss.