Here we
have another new beginning, Another chance to be what we are not. Praised be those who recognize the
rot, Portion out the guilt, and go on
living. Years change far more frequently than
we, Nor are our changes more than painted
screens, Each placed to maximize our meager
means, Windows on a world that none can see. Yet, truth be told, we know well
what's within. Each resolution fails to touch the
heart, As in the end we are, as at the
start, Remorseful reprobates, half hope, half
sin.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.