If I’m being brutally honest here, the year doesn’t have a ring to it.
Sounds like a bunch of random numbers put together to make one big, scary, odd equation.
To 2023’s credit, that’s the note I started out 2022 with too.
Everything was random; things that were meant to be in place seemed carelessly strewn;
People I knew once felt like strangers,
Places I called home looked the same, but didn’t feel the same.
What started out as a mess moulded itself into a journey;
A journey that taught me a lot of things about a lot of things –
A journey that finally put into perspective what, ‘it’s not the destination that matters’ really meant.
Bad memories became learning experiences, and good ones became stories I keep close to my heart,
Carelessly strewn buckets of thoughts became messier with time,
But as bizarre as it sounds: the mess gave me new thoughts to think about.
New, good thoughts.
If I’m being brutally honest here, 2023 doesn’t have a ring to it.
It is starting out as a mess,
With strangely familiar people-
And familiar places that don’t feel like home anymore.
In a twisted yet peculiarly wholesome way – it gives me hope for a year I know I won’t ever take for granted.
Read more such poems here.
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