What’s new is bright, what’s new is loud,
shining high above the crowd.
The poems sit and hope to be
seen by more than just a few.
Reads feel fewer, pages thin,
less time spent just dropping in.
Maybe change has shifted sight,
maybe fewer souls online tonight.
Still the words don’t fade or flee,
they wait for eyes that want to see.
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 4:00 AM UTC
What’s new is bright, what’s new is loud,
shining high above the crowd.
The poems sit and hope to be
seen by more than just a few.
Reads feel fewer, pages thin,
less time spent just dropping in.
Maybe change has shifted sight,
maybe fewer souls online tonight.
Still the words don’t fade or flee,
they wait for eyes that want to see.
