𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁  𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾,

𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗋,

𝖠𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽.

𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽,

𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗎𝗀,

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎,

𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗉𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒.

𝖲𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗈𝖽𝖽 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗌,

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽,

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗌

𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗈𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝗍 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼,

𝖧𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗐𝗇,

𝖲𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾.

𝖠 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗁, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅,

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾

𝖢𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾.

𝖤𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗉𝗈𝖾𝗆 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾

𝖱𝖾𝗏𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽

𝖠𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌.

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗍𝗎𝗇𝖾,

𝖬𝖾𝗅𝗈𝖽𝗂𝖼 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾,

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖻𝗈𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗒𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗈𝗐.

𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇,

𝖲𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿,

𝖠 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗍.

(Happy birthday to me💜💜)
(Sorry this is a little weirdly written, I just find it hard to write about—well me-)