Ghost of a Birthday, by J. W. Cassandra

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Tomorrow is its day,
But by the time I wake up,
It’s present tense: your feast –
Nowhere only you are solely,

And so your birthday is
Not a day of happiness –
Thy memory overwhelms me,
Your absence rules it.

Not the grief, bitter
Self-accusations either,
What is poignant – the want
Fiddles melody, poignant.

Hope lived: if might you
Return to us again!
Tears of dreams are bitter,
Waking up sober fact.

Completeness of the want
Pulsates in my veins
Instead of my blood, it makes me alive:
You lived twenty-one years.

And if we could greet you yet,
You would be older than old:
You would be fifty-five today.
My greeting: is only a ghost…

I live in your lack-completeness.

10 / 09. 2022., by J. W. Cassandra

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J. W. Cassandra

About the Author: J. W. Cassandra

I’m a teacher and a registered author either, at Artisjus as a writer and a poet in Hungary. I love forests, butterflies, flowers.

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