A forgotten birthday
At the corner of the room, near the exit
a mother was busy packing a small box
with red paper air-gold ribbon.
Her son asked:
'Mom, what is the gift for me? '
'No, this gift for the child of my friend'
The mom said,
without heed to grief on the faces of her children
That being suck stale poem.
'Ahh, apparently mom had forgotten when I was born.
even she forgets, gave birth to me. '
The children wept while writing,
once again he did not cry.
though every year,
he always writes the same story.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (A forgotten birthday by Sulthan Ghazal )
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