I shake the hands of those around me
We have grown close this last year
I know they are not my real family
It does not mean I do not shed a tear
To know they will be gone in the morning
When the year starts afresh
It takes some time to adjust
To awake clothed in new flesh
No memories of what has gone before
But for evidence littered on the floor
Where did it start
Can we even think when
Before New Year comes
And it happens again
And it's probably going to happen every year.
I do agree :-)
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