Feels like I need a good Rosé
To begin this awful day
In order to make this pain
Bearable enough,
       "Mother"
The day you died,
Was one of the month of my birthday,
As from that day it became,
the most torturous month,
Of each of my years
Every September days pass
And this recurring feeling does not leave me
Somewhat I feel like I am the Christ
Advancing towards the Calvary, slowly
Suffering and unlike him
I am more whimpering and depressed
Until I hit this day that I,
For now live and relive, Recurrently
Hell of a day, 20th September
It fells to me as If flames and fire
Were slowly tearing my soul apart,
Igniting unbearable pain in Me!
But I deal with it, Silently.