August Fourth Poem by Anyim Mobuchi Noble

I blew my wishes into the wind,
And the golden flames were gone;
Leaving five candles with charred wick,
Standing like lonely pillars on a hill.
My crown of wreathed silver tin,
Still sit stubbornly on my head.
It is August fourth, for my sake;
Let the celebrations never end.

The joys of growing up was desirable,
Yet, I hated the tasks that came with it.
Can I get back to sleeping till sunrise,
And having my time to myself?
Some days I had to do some things,
Even when I didn't want to.
Sometimes I'll build my world
But, reality will ruin it!

Now I've found new words,
Through the eyes of many fascinations.
I can't help but be nostalgic,
Thinking of all the beautiful things:
The people and days and encounters,
The good, the bad, and the ridiculous.
Life is awesome
And, I pray for more.