Confetti

“What a year, what a year.”
How it’s been so severe,
But the future so unclear,
Is truly what they fear.

The ball is about to drop.
Their anxiety floods nonstop,
Approaching the next hilltop,
Will it be their final stop?

Champagne like a designer drug,
Made for us all to hug,
To fake a smile and unplug,
This year we try to debug.

They hold onto a new resolution,
Because they suffer from persecution,
Longing for retribution,
But then fail and fill with more pollution.

The one thing they miss,
As they try to reminisce,
Bury their hope in a final kiss,
Like it's their last chance at bliss.

Is that life is a bunch of pieces,
Not a year that just ceases,
Not another block of time that increases,
It’s confetti that releases.

Life just ebbs and flows,
Yet they focus on the throes,
Losing sight of what matters most,
To LIVE the life you compose.

Scrape off all the frost,
All the people that you lost,
And when you expel all your exhaust,
You still have life yet uncrossed.