Here's to the forgotten people,
the voiceless.
I'll help them cross the tightrope
marginalising the sick.
And as the snow falls
and the smoke clears the airways,
I'll be there to hold your hand.

Forgotten socks in the washing machine,
Pennies dropped on the floor,
little souvenirs of purposelessness
clutter the empty spaces of Earth.
Not worn,
Not wished upon.

In light of the fog and wind
I want to remind you that
before light comes darkness.
Don't let the ice make you lose grip of what's important
and run into the loving arms of the new decade.