Fragments of a Ninth Birthday
Fragments of a red balloon
Hang limp on the rail.
Like the echoes of a birthday tune
They're now remanants of a birthday tale.
The Green Machine sets in park.
Its reverie grows dim.
Like a broken heart, silenced in the dark.
Waiting, waiting, just for him.
Gift boxes and ribbons, ripped apart,
New toys left on the floor,
Like the little boys' lonely heart,
They're now locked behind a closed door.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Fragments of a Ninth Birthday by NeVada Baker )
- Limerick-37, DEEPAK KUMAR PATTANAYAK
- ****~ARRANGED MARRIAGE~****, Amit Ray
- Jessica Simpson, Justin Reamer
- Midterms, Justin Reamer
- Thirteenth floor, Daisy Pereira
- Philosophy, Justin Reamer
- Eternal Spirits, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Waiting On God, Tom Zart
- Eunuch, arshad arshad
- Messengers Of The Heart, Tom Zart
Poem of the Day
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
- Heather Burns
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)