My Day

by Tara
(Connecticut)

It's my birthday,
That doesn't matter around here,
Just another day of wear and tear.

Nothing special about my day,
Just another year older,
Looking uglier, heart growing colder.

I wonder sometimes why I was chosen,
Never will make much of myself, I'm supposing

On the eve of my day I sit in a dark room and wait,
While the man in the other room decides my day's fate.

All the years I let slip me by,
I know I did one thing right
Each time my beautiful daughter is in my sight

Forty three I will be,
No money, no love,
Just a thick waist the size far too above.

I will go to sleep,
With all my doubt
Perhaps I will wish for better if I have a candle to blow out.

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