The Birthday – A Poem

For some reason, I knew exactly what I was thinking and doing,
In this picture.

It was in the summer of when I was six,
It was actually my mom’s birthday.
And me being me,
I forgot about it.
Until I saw a ‘Happy Birthday’ text to my mom on her phone.

So me and my dad make a quick walk,
To the neighborhood park,

Me being twelve now,
I don’t remember anything about that place.


I do remember how the flowers would bloom every spring,
Like how the stars rise every night.

And thinking about it now,
Something else that I remember
Is how the flowers would seem like they were screaming joy
And color,
Into the world.

I knew my mom like the sunflowers
More than any other flowers there,
So, I picked a few.

On each one,
I wished her a happy,
Wonderful birthday.

Then I ran back to the house,
Drew her a couple of cards,
And forced my dad to help me bake a cake.

But in the end,
It was all worth it.

It was in the summer of when I was six,
And it was my mom’s birthday.

Aanya Anand

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