
A Birthday poem
A day out of 366
Stars spun around and spanned
My words spiced with salts of a hysterics
The loneliness of which is damned
But joy I keep, is even
And when I sip, the life goes on
It’s all the same, resisting to the change
And if I stand all still and even,
Project myself as en fantôme
And if I choose no war to wage
These 366 summed up with 24H
Will be nothing more, but riven
a measure of a dummy’s age
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: