sparkling dancers, the tiny candles were,
momentary bonfires, alit for me,
my day, my day of coming into this world of breath
now sixty candles nearer death,
could it truly, truly be?
so much future, now days gone by,
how years do fly,
the hair is greyed,
as are the dreams, worn and frayed.
yet here we sing the childhood song
the song we’ve sung for oh so long,
we always do,
i don’t know why?
there must be one more other tune,
a wish is made,
but soon forgotten,
drifting off in clouds of cotton,
what was so desirous then?
way back when.
all about the smiling faces,
each friend of mine in each their places,
they laugh, they jest, they tease me so,
and urge me to draw one more mighty breath,
and blow out the fire into its smoky death.
how sad it seems to end our day,
by blowing sparkling dancers,
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