Happy Birthday Poem by Parisha Shukla

He moved silently
To the master bedroom
Lowered himself on the bed
Where his wife would lay
Before she found love elsewhere

He picked up his phone
Hovered his finger over the call button
Not wanting to disturb his daughter
She was all grown up now
Her father was forgotten about

He dusted an old album
Flipping through the pages slowly
Tracing the photographs with his fingertips
Of his best friend grinning
He died first

He closed his eyes
Rakingthe corners of his brain
For his mother's voice
Longing to hear it one last time
She hadn't been around for a long while

He looked at the cigarette butts
Lying on the edge of the table
Breakfast, lunch and dinner
He hadn't tasted anything else
Nobody taught him how to cook

He locked the door behind him
As he got into his car
Gripping onto the steering wheel
Not sure if he remembers how to drive
Father gave him that lesson when he was 15

He drove slowly
Analyzing the little things that pass him
Vehicles, Lights, Road signs
Love, marriage, children
It was a one way road after all

He stopped at the grocery store
Picked up a chocolate bar
The kind his wife craved when she was expecting
Hoping he'd remember what it felt like
To be a husband

He stopped at the clothing store
And picked out a pair of socks
A size that would fit only newborns
Hoping he'd remember what it felt like
To be a father

He stopped at the park
And sat down on a seesaw
Nobody on the other side
Hoping he'd remember what it felt like
To be a son

He stopped at the bakery
And looked for the biggest cake
Preferably one with no icing
Hoping he'd remember what it felt like
To be celebrated

He stopped at the train station
Walked down to the track
Laid down comfortably
The way he would beside his mother
Beside his wife, beside his daughter

He smiled
And whispered
Happy birthday
He was happy
At least he remembered.