A heartbreaking poem about the quiet pain of being forgotten on your birthday and still hoping someone will remember.
The morning arrived
without remembering me.
No candles trembling,
no name glowing on a screen,
no voice carrying tenderness
through the silence.
I told myself
it was only another day—
ordinary light,
ordinary hours,
another year placed quietly
upon my shoulders.
But beneath my practiced indifference
stood the child I used to be,
holding a wish in both hands,
listening for footsteps
that never came.
I did not want a celebration.
Only proof
that somewhere in this world,
someone had thought of me
before I had to ask.
So the evening found me
exactly where the morning left me—
older, quieter,
pretending it did not hurt.
And still, beneath the bitterness,
some foolish part of me
kept watching the door,
waiting
to be proven wrong.
Writing from the place where silence becomes confession.
Writer and Author.
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The Birthday No One Remembered A heartbreaking poem about the quiet pain of being forgotten on your birthday and still hoping someone will remember. The morning arrivedwithout remembering me. No candles trembling,no name glowing on a screen,no voice carrying tendernessthrough the silence. I told myselfit was only another day—ordinary light,ordinary hours,another year placed quietlyupon my shoulders. But beneath my practiced indifferencestood the child I used to be,holding a...
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A new reflection is coming soon — written for the hour when the noise fades, the room grows still, and the thoughts we avoid finally become clear.
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