The One Who Cries on Birthdays...

Today is my birthday, but I will not enjoy it anyway.

This will move into the past like any other day.

I'm unhappy for I can't move to the past like the quick-mortal days.

Gone are the days when I looked eagerly forward for my birthdays.

Thinking of the time when I was not this tall, not this fat.

I was a so small that you could have packed me in a little hat.

Whenever the wind blew with a whistle,

I jumped over the fence and hid behind thistle.

Rain came pouring down on my little head,

When I ran to the muddy fields to have a little thud.

Hours and hours and hours of playing

No homework, no tensions, only enjoying.

Mom came rushing to get me from the mud pool.

She dipped me in water to send to the school.

Her kisses fell on my face like mud's splattering,

When I slipped my feet in the field while playing.

Walking along the road which bordered with shrubs,
Leaving the bag to hang on my back like a hump.
Sky winked at me with its blue and white eyes,
That let me taste the milky clouds and tit-bits of starry nights.

Then one day I knew that I was growing

Faster and faster and faster than ever.

On birthday cakes, I could see candles taking the space more

Making me panic and failing me to blow them any more.

I hate to see the candles now as they remind me
The years I passed and the years left with me.
Each piece of cake gave me sweetness on my tongue
But wounded me on my heart which hurts like a bee-sting.

It takes me to nowhere else but the hell,
Why do we want to enjoy the death's call?
I hate my birthdays as they stole from me what I treasured
And loved more than my youth, which my childhood...

Some context:

I wrote this poem when I was a student about ten years ago. We had a subject called Creative Writing which was very fun. Once while taking an exam of around two hours' duration, there was a question to write a poem on one of the topics they suggested. I picked childhood and wrote this poem.

When I'm reading this after all these years, I feel like an idiot! Some of the lines do not even make sense to me. But it was my very first attempt to write a poem in English, which is not even my first language.

And putting cherry on top of the cake, my professor gave me A grade and told me, "How did you manage to write such a poem in an exam hall? That too with a lot of rhyming? You can actually keep this as something special and show somebody saying you wrote this in an exam hall." I was kind of over the moon after that... So I thought I should keep this somewhere people don't actually see... lol...