Wish

I wept endlessly the day I turned twenty-two,
You were not there to wish me anymore.
Just a year back all I had was you 
And I couldn't have asked for more.

The poet said, the ocean refused to stop kissing the shoreline, 
No matter how many times it was sent away.
Was it us she was talking about?
Because it was not like this, on my last birthday.

Today I turn twenty-three,
I yearn for your voice, your smile, your kiss.
Maybe when I turn twenty-four,
You will again be my bliss.