Three years

Three years have passed me in a haze
And I forgot how to observe
And I forgot my time and place
And I forgot my own true words

I have dismissed the sparks of joy
When I discovered something new
When life was nothing but a toy
When, daringly, I still loved you

When spring had blossomed in my heart—
Never to give me what I lack
Never to end, only to start
Never to ever change me back

Never to wither, so I thought
But then three years lastly passed
Three years—in one mighty blast
Three years, turning all to naught

Three years on a one-way train
Three years of both love and pain
Three years, all gone down the drain.

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On Birthdays

I used to cherish the years I had accumulated

With every cycle I seemed to be
Getting somewhere

The years were a sign, the proof that I was not
Stagnant

And every one of them was welcomed with open hands and joyed upon

Nowadays
I deem no celebration necessary

For I am free to celebrate whenever suitable

Not having to be bound by any
Special occasion

A good feeling is reason enough to feast about

Instead of forcing the deed
On some peculiar time
Of some particular day

Every fucking year

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