They tell me today is my birthday,
But it doesn't feel so.
They tell me to make a wish, to say
It out loud, but I don't know-
Where’re the cake, and the candles?
The presents, all my friends?
Why are the travel bags out if we
Didn't leave for vacation with the rest?
My birthday dress is too small,
And ruined anyway,
By a big, yellow star right in front
That Mama sewed on today.
Mama says that I’m big,
That I ought not to cry,
But I do, and she start to dig
For a handkerchief, and tells me to keep my chin high.
And the street gets dark and empty,
Because breaking curfew costs dear,
So I press my face to the window
And patiently wait for next year.