The mounds of white, pale frosting and I?
Engaged in a staring contest.
I traced the folds of purity
And the round corners of divinity,
With my vision.
My eyes twitched endlessly,
But I refused to relent.
My brows furrowed in puzzlement
As I focused on the splashes of red?
Molded in the shape of roses,
Decorating the two story cake.
?
Finally, I diverted my eyes
And focused on the candles.
An unorganized arrangement of seventeen.
Five blue, Five green
One yellow, and six pink.
I stood atop the yellow,
My mind wishing with angst.
Wishing for happiness and clarity
And love and adventures
A custom at seventeen.
?
And as I wished, ?
Tuning out the sounds of cheers and laughter,
I watched the flames wave in response.
Counting to ten,
I softly gave the candles permission
?To bid us farewell.
Their job was done.
All was swell.

I turned to the small crowd,
Of relatives and friends, mind you.?
And sadly smiled
Spoon feeding their craving for approval.?
And as I turned to go,?
I saw,?
Out of the corner of my eye,?
The yellow candle flickering in the darkness.
?