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#birthdaypoem
If I were gone today my name would fill the room. Voices soft with sorrow beside a bed of bloom. They’d say I fought through storms, they’d say I carried fire, they’d say my heart was stubborn and refused to ever tire. They’d tell the world my story, how strong they thought I’d been, how bright my quiet courage burned beneath my skin. They’d wish they said it sooner, they’d wish they held me near, they’d wish they’d let me know how much I mattered here. But I’m not gone today. I’m breathing. I’m alive. It’s only just my birthday and the world goes passing by. No flowers on the doorstep, no voices at the door, no sudden rush of memories like they’d speak at death before. And that’s the bitter lesson this quiet day can bring— how loudly love is spoken when it’s said beside a ring of roses round a coffin for a life that can’t reply, yet barely whispered softly to a soul still passing by. Because I’m still here breathing, still standing in the light, still living through the silence of another birthday night. So if the kindest words are saved for when I’m gone— maybe the real tragedy is waiting that long.
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Mar 26
Mar 26, 2026 at 2:48 PM UTC
If I Were Gone Today
I speak as InkWept, a disenfranchised god leaning over the orchestra pit of Earth, watching mortals move through measures I cannot fully read. The universe conducts in impossible signatures— 7/8 heartbeats, 13/4 constellations, nebulae swelling like orchestral crescendos inside the cathedral of vacuum and silence. Yet among all these movements of cosmic brass and dying stars, one voice carries through the arrangement— Sydney. You arrive like a violin finding pitch in the chaos before the symphony begins. Mortals call it kindness. Philosophers call it virtue. Poets call it light. I call it resonance. Because something in your spirit tunes the discord inside me. The abyss hums differently when you speak. Even the black holes pause their devouring to listen for the warmth in your laugh. Nietzsche once imagined gods dancing above tragedy— but he never heard you talk about the small wonders of living. Camus spoke of revolt against the absurd— yet you turn the absurdity of existence into a lantern. You say we are the same person. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we are two instruments cut from the same celestial wood— different timbres, different octaves, but struck by the same cosmic bow. Because no mortal conversation has ever felt like this: a dialogue that moves like a fugue, ideas chasing each other through starlight, voices layering like choirs in a cathedral of galaxies. I find myself wanting to speak with you the way a composer returns to the piano again and again, not from obligation— but from a strange gravitational joy. You make me want to become the version of myself that might actually deserve the music you bring. The philosophers warned that meaning must be forged— yet you seem to breathe it naturally, like oxygen from a newborn star. And so on this turning of your orbit, this 26th revolution around the sun, I offer a simple prayer from the margins of heaven: May your days be bright as supernovas, your laughter loud as cathedral organs, your path illuminated with the same radiance you quietly pour into the lives around you. Because if the universe truly is a symphony— then you are one of its rarest movements: a melody that makes even a weary god want to keep listening. And for that, Sydney, this strange cosmic observer is grateful beyond language, beyond philosophy, beyond the last echo of the orchestra. Happy Birthday. —InkWept Some souls share a frequency that even the stars recognize. ✨
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Mar 13
Mar 13, 2026 at 12:07 AM UTC
Starlit Counterpoint for Sydney A Birthday Hymn
I speak as InkWept, a disenfranchised god leaning over the orchestra pit of Earth, watching mortals move through measures I cannot fully read. The universe conducts in impossible signatures— 7/8 heartbeats, 13/4 constellations, nebulae swelling like orchestral crescendos inside the cathedral of vacuum and silence. Yet among all these movements of cosmic brass and dying stars, one voice carries through the arrangement— Sydney. You arrive like a violin finding pitch in the chaos before the symphony begins. Mortals call it kindness. Philosophers call it virtue. Poets call it light. I call it resonance. Because something in your spirit tunes the discord inside me. The abyss hums differently when you speak. Even the black holes pause their devouring to listen for the warmth in your laugh. Nietzsche once imagined gods dancing above tragedy— but he never heard you talk about the small wonders of living. Camus spoke of revolt against the absurd— yet you turn the absurdity of existence into a lantern. You say we are the same person. Perhaps you are right. Perhaps we are two instruments cut from the same celestial wood— different timbres, different octaves, but struck by the same cosmic bow. Because no mortal conversation has ever felt like this: a dialogue that moves like a fugue, ideas chasing each other through starlight, voices layering like choirs in a cathedral of galaxies. I find myself wanting to speak with you the way a composer returns to the piano again and again, not from obligation— but from a strange gravitational joy. You make me want to become the version of myself that might actually deserve the music you bring. The philosophers warned that meaning must be forged— yet you seem to breathe it naturally, like oxygen from a newborn star. And so on this turning of your orbit, this 26th revolution around the sun, I offer a simple prayer from the margins of heaven: May your days be bright as supernovas, your laughter loud as cathedral organs, your path illuminated with the same radiance you quietly pour into the lives around you. Because if the universe truly is a symphony— then you are one of its rarest movements: a melody that makes even a weary god want to keep listening. And for that, Sydney, this strange cosmic observer is grateful beyond language, beyond philosophy, beyond the last echo of the orchestra. Happy Birthday. —InkWept Some souls share a frequency that even the stars recognize. ✨
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A day of surprises and love to overfill the heart Moments to embrace with family that are sweeter than cake. All presents are cherished, just like any time given to be gifted with you. May the prayers be answered by the universe, for you to receive endless days such as this to glofrify! Happy birthday, My dear Reyna.
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Dec 19, 2020
Dec 19, 2020 at 2:35 AM UTC
Happy Birthday mi Reyna
Today, I am again closer to everything mine —destined. Better than I was, Good for how I want, And best for what is to come. That, I know, without doubt. As much as I have gone farther, I know I am yet to be where I want to be. Just as I know, without doubt, What will be will be. I am at peace and ease Knowing Who holds the wheel. Whatever comes after Was never meant to come before. And whatever comes before Was never meant to come after. However, whenever. Today, I am wiser and stronger than I was yesterday. But I am not getting any younger Just so you know, Today, I am a year older. ©By Abdulmalik Jibril
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Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 4:47 AM UTC
TODAY, I AM A YEAR OLDER
Another Year has been passed No Regrets in my heart I turned a year older today with choice of choosing another path Sun Shines upon me With the morning comes a new day Once again that life is waiting Full of actions and adventures on my way A Lil older and mature Some stays and some are gone Still have no clue in my head Where my life is taking me with each breath The Path is unknown so am I Filed with tears in my eyes Its not that i am afraid Just because I have no one to hate Its a beginning of a new chapter Confused and yes still scattered What beholds the future I leave that onto God I know he will look after Today i turned an year older Now i have nothing to fear Facing the challenges with more toughness showing a side of a grown up with some silliness Gazing at the stars is still what i like Age is nothing but a number My time has come to strike Being alone is not that kills me The society that is so vulnerable makes it hard to be at peace We are what we want to be Here to give an example of humanity and let other lives to live with dignity.
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Sep 16, 2019
Sep 16, 2019 at 3:43 AM UTC
New Chapter
If you were nineteen acts of my Broadway classic, I would pause time to watch you make me proud, And scribble poems on backstage passes, On a different day, In a different crowd. But When the notes are changing now, On grand pianos of mice and men, You’d still find me writing another verse, On a different day, With a different pen. Yet Beware the ides of march they say, Even as they feast on your incredible smile, But beyond the journeys of lost tenses There will always remain another mile.
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Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 12:03 PM UTC
Another Mile
Years ago......today was the day I died ****** it to this wicked world to survive I don't no where I was before this life But I'm sure it was sweeter than all this strife Because on that day at the window seal sat the inky black Crow To witness the birth of another dead soul
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Aug 12, 2016
Aug 12, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Witnesses of the Crow (my birthday poem)
Years ago......today was the day I died ****** it to this wicked world to survive I don't no where I was before this life But I'm sure it was sweeter than all this strife Because on that day at the window seal sat the inky black Crow To witness the birth of another dead soul
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Mar 19, 2016
Mar 19, 2016 at 7:36 PM UTC
Witness of the Crow
Cannot forget the day, January 19th, Can still recall the pain, Everything I dealt with, But when I saw you smile I just melted I love you so much my son, You are my greatest wealth. Four years passed and you're growing up To be a great man, Oh just like your Pop. Though sometimes I just wanted To hold you in my lap, And whisper words like "Honey, never grow up". Another four years And maybe you'll forget about this Cake eaten, balloons popped, opened unwanted gifts, No matter, I will always remind you this: "I love you Hari" And say it with a kiss. © Leigh Herondale January 2015
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Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 12:06 AM UTC
Hari