Winding Road

That winding road,

My birthday has come but feel empty inside,

Don’t know why.

But I really do.

That mid-way feeling.

Straddling the deep,

The turmoil, the strife, the nothingness,

The pain.

As we walk along this path.

Left with nothing.

All gone.

All final.

All for nothing.

Then it ends.

It ends.

We end.

We breathe our last breath.

Into the silence.

The dark.

The emptiness.

Like an empty pint.

My celebration.

The final.

Along this winding road.

Until it drops out from under you.

Falling under your feet,

And you follow with that fall.

That deep pain.

It’s my birthday,

A reminder of the finality.

The time wasted.

The end looming.

This road winding.

It’s my birthday along this winding road.

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