There begins a new year
all over again
with me floating over the edge of the last
to come into the present.
And I’m not sure if I like this;
this new dawn that causes me to look back:
rather than falling into a new valley
I find myself standing on a new cliff
where everything is lit up bright with hindsight
and dark is shone for what it is.
Much I see that is far from good,
and some that I may love
in a year now lost to a constant clock
and a man who hates to grow,
so I stand with two eyes in two directions
at the precipice of time;
one, to ponder the long days past
the other seeking better life.
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