Birthday Muse

One day a child, the next a boy
The following in adolescence
And then a flash of hoi polloi
Then on to obsolescence

We see lies from every mirror
Claim birthdays but a number
But each candle blows us nearer
To the final slumber

Awake, enjoy, while life remains
And dance and laugh and sing and shout
Hold close all that it contains
And blow the fucking candles out.

© 2004 Butch Maxwell

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