Happy day, you say.
Be of good cheer.
I can't though, you know.
She died this day last year.
She held on a week,
7 days, that's all.
For someone with such strength
it seemed impossible.
I wonder where she is.
She might not know me;
I've changed quite a lot.
Her last gift to me,
on my eleventh birthday,
was her funeral farewell.
It wasn't fair.
I didn't say goodbye.
She was getting better
and yet she still died.
Turns out, in 65 years,
She had 3 different cancers,
Breast and intestines, she survived.
But brain, well, it killed her.
Happy day, you say.
Happy for her,
She escaped her prison,
her body, her Hell.
What a way to celebrate
My birthday.