Midnight.
Both an end and a beginning,
More of a transition...
The tension of the countdown,
The thrill of the cheer.
The champagne,
the kisses with near and dear.
A rainbow of measures,
one after another,
drop after drop.
The night carries on,
song after song.
The clock strikes
as does a glimmer of hope.
For a second the promise
that this year will be better.
We swayed in the streetlights,
the moonlight,
the club,
And we sang
with the busker
who played only for us.
The truth is this year
will be the same as the last,
But blink and you'll miss it
and it'll soon be the past.