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Poetry #14: All that’s a year

What’s the first thing you do on the last morning of a year? Feel melancholic of course, and express it thus.

All that’s old not gold
All that’s new not beau
Yet the baton passes forth
May it be in drear or mirth

All that’s left behind
All that’s right ahead
Blends one in to two
For some, there’s no starting anew

All that’s made us mope
All that’s filled with hope
Treasure it all we do
For there’s no bidding adieu

All that’s past of time
All that’s to receive sunshine
A construct of the human mind
That says everything’s fine

All that’s full of fear
All that’s so dear
Leave it all to a prayer
Welcome to another year

Image Credit: Johannes Schwanbeck under CC BY-SA 2.0 license without any modifications

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