Twas the eve of 2018, when he took a vow
A vow that he would end this year with a bow
“Next year will be mine”, shouted he with confidence
As he had been doing for the past 4 years or so
Then again, who doesn’t do so every New Year?
As was customary for every New Year’s Eve
Wishes, Resolutions, Lists and what have you
Every New Year’s Eve starts and ends as such
Hope is a fickle thing; I’ve harped on it before
But there’s something about the birth of a New Year
Hopes and Dreams run abound like wild dogs
One can’t help, but feel a sense of hope renewed
People down on their luck await the new year
For the belief of a new start on a new year
Is something that even the most pessimistic
Wouldn’t wish to dash, for even cynics do dream
Twas the morning of 2019, when he took a vow
A vow to hit the gym hard and lose weight
The standard New Year’s vow for most people
Whether that vow is dropped in a week or month
Is highly irrelevant in the face of the hope anew
One does hope for a better future for oneself
Even the most bitter, the cynical and the pessimistic
Every New Year’s morning starts as such.
