Silent Calendar

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I don't know my birthday.
No paper has the date.
I came into this world alone,
Without a marked estate.

No mother held me to her chest,
No voice pronounced my name,
No candle burned to light the dark,
No wish became a flame.

I watched the others celebrate
The day that they were born,
While I was left to wander through
A silence cold and worn.

For years I thought a birthday was
A number on a page,
A simple mark to measure out
The passage of my age.

But now I know the quiet truth
That hurts the very most:
A date is just a ghost of time
Without a loving host.

It’s not the cake, it’s not the song,
Nor clothes they wear to play;
It is the heart that looks at you
And treasures up the day.

And so I walk without a face
To anchor where I started,
A child who lives inside the space
Where memory departed.

Yet in the quiet, now I see
I do not walk alone-
For everyone who goes unloved
Has no day of their own.


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