Your Birthday

It was your birthday
and I was the gift he presented
To you,

With you in mind,
he picked it…
the date,
yes, even the time.

He loaned himself,
I borrowed the moment.
Cheers to yooooou,
It was me that he came to see
your birthday.
Your gift he desired to spend on me
Loving on,
doting on,
devoting your time,
giving his attention.

He gave us both a promise:
his illusion

It was I who answered when you called,
said “Hi.”
your rebuttal was “Why?”
I opted to end it…
it pained me to digest the sound of your hurt;
the sadness,
of which I had the task of bearing witness.
And yes, I’ll even admit it:
I aided the culprit.
It was he who created this madness;
perpetual confusion.

No vested interest,
just left us with the high priced tag,
our emotions taxed,
and we had to pay.

Please forgive me Dear Birthday Girl,
let’s toast to us…

Sealed with Your Kiss,
On My Lips

Copyright © 2012 Rayne

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