Yes, world!
Make me feel special for a day!
Then forget me,
Like you always forget people
When you don’t see them every day.
You move on
From one present to another,
So do I,
But with a birthday hat,
And a pooper,
That I always bring
To my own party.
How badly do I seek
The need to go out,
To escape this crowd,
And find my sound
In the noise this city makes.
I think of often how
You have to sift
Through pages of history,
To remember a face
And their story
You had once felt something for,
And how that thought just grows
Every year,
To be one day old.
I think of tomorrow then,
How you will neglect me when
I will try to go back to our good old days,
You would shrug it off
To look past me to profess –
“Memory lanes are for birthdays”.
As I grow old,
So I have been told,
You tend to clean
The clutter you hold,
And faces pour out
From your sky,
Like a fallout they are,
Like a fall out they were,
And everything permanent
Lasts only a day.
You play a game –
Who remembers your name,
Who remembers you more,
You love the same,
But you fight for people,
Who will call you again
the next year –
There is no thereafter.
Every year you inch
A bit closer to your grave,
But no one cares for your hereafter.
At times you look back in
Your rearview mirror,
To spend a thought
And lend them an ear.
But most days, you forget them
Even when they are around,
You remember to hug them
When your reminder makes a sound
And that’s how you know
A breather breathes in your space
That you have to put up a face
But only for a day.
“Oh! what a relief!
I can’t wait to remember you,
Just to forget you again.”