The Fourth Birthday

How many candles on the cake?

How many candles did they make?

On the cake I count but three,

Three more years of misery.

…

Never had a cake with four,

As then I was with those abhorred.

But the candles mark remaining time,

As life counts down to end of line.

…

Next year two, then after one,

Always setting is my sun.

In this life I am called free,

But the years bring none of ecstasy.

…

Fourth birthday looms, and my life's end,

Long since retired are my friends.

Not time enough, no time to waste,

The cake, it still has bitter taste.