For once again, the clock tolls.
12, midnight, the beginning, the end.
I sit in the remaining confetti, once again alone.
To me, it all has lost its vibrant demeanor
Another Year, Another time where everyone begins again.
It’s as if they shed their skin of the year, they regenerate themselves, then given a new look that feels old.
Yet i am left here in my war torn vessel, with all the scars from the year.
I regenerate last out of everyone, I never understand why.
Maybe, i just don’t want to go, or maybe i am not ready yet.
In some of the years, i think it is a gift, to enjoy who i was for a little while longer.
Yet i am jealous none-the-less
all i ask is that i shake these scars,
the ones that fade in through the regeneration
the ones i regret and the ones that still burn.
This year will be no different,
they sleep, i stay awake
they change, im delayed
but maybe this is they year i live with minimal scars and i regenerate quicker next time.
or maybe ill lay here wide awake again pondering what could have been.
it doesnt matter
the new and the old, the beginnings, the ends
shall be turned upside down again in father time’s sands
and it will begin all again.