switching off a candle
is burning a part of our existence
circling the bithdate in the calender
is looking at oneself withering
what a special thought
making of me wondering shall I celebreate birthdays
to remind still the universe of their faded pieces
It is a hurt Birthday
switching off a candleis burning a part of our existence
circling the bithdate in the calender
is looking at oneself withering
I have got another way to describe a birthday
it is the trace of time which dies
it is a number which vanishes
but the very heart of yours is still the same
it is a home of all the nicest memories
it is the only day to be in your own realm
switching off a candle
is burning a part of our existence
circling the bithdate in the calender
is looking at oneself withering
It is a glance at all that did happen to us
thrown behind our backsas if you close another window
not to listen to all the weak moments
not to view some horrible scenes!
switching off a candleis burning a part of our existence
circling the bithdate in the calender
is looking at oneself withering
Suddenly, we realise that a year went by
we all are weeping because of such a loss
a wrinkle is coming to cover us
and stole all that youth we selfishly want to keep
switching off a candle
is burning a part of our existence
circling the bithdate in the calender
is looking at oneself withering
celebrating or not is according to a vision of you and Me
bonne lecture
21/01/10, 12:07 am
