Still I can't find peace .
New pen , same old piece.
Hey it's my birthday.
Don't wish me , it's a cliché.
Give me a time machine, so that I can decorate my future and renovate my past.
So that I can hold her hands and smile at last.
Take me to those mountains , take me to those hills.
Take me to that place where I can get those overwhelming nature chills.
Give me love , give me moments , give me pen.
Give me inspiration , give me motivation , I will write again.
Give me a platform , give me the centre stage.
I need to let go of this pain , I need to let go of this rage.
It feels like yesterday , when I turned seventeen.
I thought the sky can't turn more blue , I thought the grass can't look more green.
But I think that eighteen is me lucky number.
Everything will go smooth , I will not lumber.
At least I hope so but let's do the formalities first. "Woho yes can't keep calm it's my birthday " by the way this one is the worst.
I want to portray happiness because it's my birthday.
But remember , make me happy , no cliché.
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