Countless

[billy]

Twice in a fortnight my family's gathered to celebrate birthdays.
Today I heard a cheer through my bathroom window;
other families are having other celebrations,
and so the unimportance of a single life is proven to me.
We are all born, then loved or hated, then die,
from the cruellest monster to the frailest girl,
spinning like dancers through barbecues and tea parties,
a little older each time. Nothing is immortal or alone.

bugger me, i forgot to leave feedback sorry jack.

it's a very cynical look at life but it's well articulated.
i wondered about L6 and did it help the piece but only because i'm struggling to give any constructive feedback apart from i like it. sometimes liking a poem can become a problem for me in that i try and force myself to find something that needs fixing. here i noticed the problem is mine but now i wonder if i'm the same on other poems .

thanks for the read jack.