scorp

short and simple, but strong and powerful! Bravo!

i love how you've captured the pressure of doing good in school with no regard to wellness as a person...I totally understand where you're coming from, my parents are harsh about grades too :) Good work on this one! Keep writing!

What do we forget as we grow up?

We may have forgotten what caused us to feel energized every day. The author of “happy birthday” communicates the declining happiness as people mature by showing a musing speaker who personifies the memories of the childhood. In stanza 4, the speaker “loathe the easiness of [his or her childhood’s] short life.” This may imply that the speaker is already grown up, and the happy memories as a kid is making the current life be so unpalatable that the speaker wants to forget the past. In stanza 5, the personified childhood finally asks the speaker, presumably while crying, "Why are you like this?" However, during the conversation between the childhood, the speaker does not know the reason of having “[bloody] knees and [a] battered face” (stanza 6), and replies “I don’t know.” The speaker perhaps has been too ignoring the inevitable pain in life to forget the source of the pain. When the childhood spots the wounds, the theme that happiness decreases as people grow returns.

In my opinion, the poem was good. Other than what I have mentioned above, there were many other smart techniques. Though it was hard to understand in first few minutes, I think the vagueness was intentional

Congratulations, your writing is excellent.

The word reconciles sensitivity and writing in a calm and confidential time frame that encourages reflective perception. After dawn, writing will wake up, the need for a lyrical flow that leaves a record of life with rhythm returns. As if the word connected the transitory with the most elemental, there is no formal pretense, only the beautiful rhythm of a journey of vital affirmation, in the space of which the traces of tenderness are diluted, the ephemeral preludes of what moves.
The poet reflects on his own identity through memory. To trace time is to hear the mother's voice again, to fly into youthful dreams and learn the blurred calligraphy of emotions, the vanity of life and beauty that slowly transforms into a cold mist, on pages of a fragile memory in countryside: "Life passes, like the jasmine flower."

Poet - Writing Coach
Literary Critic
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epiko

You describe the setting very well and your narrator's experiences are convincing. I'd have written "where an elderly couple grazed a mule" or "kept a mule" as they owned it wherever it was. Otherwise, well done.