Happy Birthday to Me

My birthday's in about an hour. I could be celebrating but I wrote this poem instead:

*****

I feel my head aching

and I see gray hairs;

brain matter seeps

through roots and

takes away my color.

I was once bright red

but now am faded to

the contrast of the wind.

When did I become a

wispy cloud of storms

with no mobility that I control?

The earth pulls me along,

shaping me to forms

those below can only guess.

I could be bitter but I’m tasteless

and your tongue is numb.