Quiet birthdays

Here it is another year down and another year older.

It’s birthday time again let the pain begin again.

Struggle to keep it to myself.

Remembering what it was like to say, “It’s my birthday” when I was child.

So here I sit quietly, struggling along wishing it was past already.

I keep expecting to be punished by my Dad even if I admit it’s my day.

So, in the middle of party time of the year I sit quietly.

In the end, I know no pain will come but I still am afraid of my birthday.

Each one, a reminder of my failures, of my heartbreaks, of my losses.

So here comes the day when I get a year older quietly.