Birthday Poem 2018

 

Photo source: Canva

When I die,
I want them to read my poems at the service.

Since I was a child,
The question drove me wild.
No one had an answer,
I was afraid to ask again:
What is the purpose of a birthday?
Is it to celebrate surviving?
A mad life in a mad world,
One more year—
Is that the real victory?
Or is it reflecting on where I have been and 
where I need to go?
Not to wander off my path,
Even though I might stagger,
Forward thinking, past leaving,
Past staying where I do not belong,
Passing by the fear that once inflamed my insecurities.
They tried to kill me a few times,
I prayed day and night,
Until each battle was won.
A pensive poet permeated from my personality.
I chose to love her.
To love the words that pour out of her.
Listen close,
I am also learning to listen close.

I hope to see another year,
On my way to rest in peace.
Until then, I will count my blessings.

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