“Birthday Party At My House (If I Had a House)”
Couldn’t remember the day he was born
So he couldn’t blame others for not knowing
Except there weren’t any others to speak of
Beyond varied reflections on public bathroom mirrors.
Children are celebrated for existing,
Adults for what they’ve accomplished
And if you’ve accomplished nothing,
No birthday balloons for you.
Mother died in 2020
When everyone else was dying
Which didn’t make it feel any less personal,
The straw that broke a broken camel’s back.
Now memories were both a consolation and a slap in the face,
A reminder he had things good once and would never have them good again,
Proof of love
And of love’s fleeting nature.
Stumbled upon the window of a Chuck E. Cheese
Right as six candles were being blown out
And wondered if he could make a wish too
On the wisp of smoke gone before it was there.
Sam Hendrian is a lifelong storyteller striving to foster empathy and compassion through art. Originally from the Chicago suburbs, he now resides in Los Angeles, where he primarily works as an independent filmmaker and has just completed his first feature film Terrificman, a deeply personal ode to the power of human kindness. You can find his poetry and film links on Instagram at @samhendrian143.