The chatter falls away
And with it the mistletoe dies.
The Christmas spirit diminishes,
The season's grievings survive.
To the New Year ahead we look
With every intention to forget this past,
But that which haunts me is that which takes me there,
Where every misgiving and every mistake will be my last.
Saying goodbye would be a dishonour
To everything which has given me what I need to know
And marked every change on the path I have taken;
If I said goodbye I would never again say hello.
An altered date fixes nothing at all
Except the number of which I write in my script.
Each negativity cannot be erased by one little digit,
Nor will it be changed by magic, through a flick of the wrist.
So many smiles twisted by all that strain,
Nights full of worry and days full of passion,
Every indecision alongside the insane -
What does it take for all that to happen?
The season's grievings survive
All a part of true living.
"New Year, new me." Lies.
My own spirit remains, and that's why I'm winning.
