Again!
That day has come again!
Every year it comes.
How madly I hate this day!
Others call it my birthday.
The world says it's a special day.
My 364(or 365) days get wasted
in finding what's so special.
People not even remembering my name
Suddenly make me feel
I am their last resort.
Oh gosh! I feel trapped.
I wanna run as far as God has any ground.
But lo! I am stuck here,
In this boring life.
Just like I am standing on a pillar of great altitude.
I don't know how I got there.
There's no escape, I have to stay here
until my death.
These feelings haunt me on my birthday.
What's so special?
It's just a matter of some digits,
important to prove my existence.
There isn't anything new----
The same dull life,
the same haters with masks of well wishers,
the same stereotype environment!
I should have been taught how to be happy
instead of how to be successful.