Saturday, April 12, 2014

Birthday



Birthday why does thou mock me?
Bitterest savour of sweetest harpy
Give of hope; taker of dreams
You would not watch fate so
Yet you mark my finite time
My lost grace and decaying rhyme
Would your lips death kiss?
So he may know your withering bliss
Why make me wiser year by year
When all is over, too soon, I fear