Your old wears are still good
Wash, dry, and put them on
Sit on your couch and safe your fleeting breath
It’s just a change in calendars.
New foods ain’t coming with the year
They are all those you have had
Cook the ones in your store and safe your fleeting breath
It’s just a change in calendars.
Why travel valley of death
To be in company of some cronies
Call them on phone to safe your fleeting breath
It’s just a change in calendars.
New year and new month
Are mere changes in calendars
Seasons are tricks of nature
Why kill yourself?
gloomy poetry…
i hope its what you intended…
felt the sadness..still good