Birthday
If the sky is such a cliché
Why is it falling?
If the tree is such a cliché,
Why is it dying
If soul is such a cliché
Where is it hiding
If love is such a cliché
Why isn’t there enough to go around.
For my part
I can’t get enough of the sky.
For my part, I can’t wait
For those leaves to come back.
For my party
I am inviting the clown Love
For my birthday I want a cake
Revealing the color of my soul.
Ana Božičević