The Birthday Poem Pt. 2: - John Dave B. Figueroa

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The Birthday Poem Pt.

2
-John Dave B. Figueroa

As he woke staring at the ceiling


He thought it was not that exciting
A lonely man in his bluest
Chose to get the fuck up on his bed at least

He pissed, cleansed hands and face


Rinsed mouth since it smells like garbage waste
Life to him is a gamble
Time is clicking, every minute is possible

Checking his phone daily


Nothing to converse, can walk outside freely
Sticks and stones might break his bones
He’s empty inside but you can hear his groans

He only wanted one thing for this occasion


To be loved and cared was solely on his vision
It’s ridiculous to exist with him
A lonely man with an absent grin

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