Things could get very dark very quickly
But let's not call for a hearse just yet.

We're on a speeding freight train
Headed for the light at the end

Of a long and dark tunnel
Just keep your eyes on the prize.

We'll soon be blasting through
To the other side!

The new year arrives not with thunder, but with a whisper—soft, persistent, and unyielding.
It carries the weight of time gone by, the fragments of moments we let slip like sand between careless fingers.

Regret lingers like an unspoken truth, a shadow cast by the light of what could have been. We try to grasp it, to undo it, to reweave the threads of yesterday, but the loom has turned, and the past is a river that only flows forward.

Time was never ours to hold. It was a fleeting metaphor, a borrowed grace we misused with the arrogance of eternity. Hours became currency we spent too freely, years became chapters we didn’t bother to read.

But the clock does not pause.
It does not mourn. It ticks with indifference, a steady cadence reminding us of the gift we still possess: the present.

If the past is a lesson and the future a promise, then this moment is the altar on which we lay our resolve. To forgive ourselves. To treasure the seconds. To write poetry where there was silence.

For though time does not turn back, it offers something greater
a chance to begin again.
And in this beginning, perhaps,
we can finally learn to live.





                                            @Erennwrites

****.

I ruined my coffee.

Distracted and

Dumping

Creamer after creamer

To achieve desired lightness.

Turns out,

Trying to mask the bitterness

Made everything worse.

Do I drink it ruined?

Or not at all?

****.

Burnt and bitter is better than

Clotting creaminess coating my throat.

My final coffee of the year,

Of course it’s a teachable moment.

Something something authenticity.

I wish I had more coffee.