Another year has passed, another birthday is nearly gone and nothing is different. He sits alone in his home, looking at his monitor; reading the words of people whom he sometimes wonders if they are his only true friends. He wonders because like all birthdays they are the only ones that take notice, the only ones that make an effort to make it an enjoyable day like it should, unlike his friends in life, his friends that are always too busy, his friends that act like they don't want anything to do with him. It's the people who he has never met in person, the people he types too that are closer to true friends then those so called friends he has made in life.
He sits reading words as feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair take root in his heart. As he reads, he wonders if he really has any friends at all, he wonders if it is all a game to them, playing him, laughing at him behind his back, despair now holds his heart in its cold hand.
A tear runs down his face and he stops for a moment before returning to his reading and typing, alone, whishing this day, his birthday, away, just like every year, wishing the reminders of how lonely he feels and is, away for at least another year.
Comments
Jake
savage_cushions
Sariel
great writing overall, there are some parts I think could be edited slightly to make it even more powerful.
For your first attempt, very impressive. Added to the list of poems on this site ive read outloud to myself several times. :)