Perhaps a new year only exists to show the widening gap between the what was and what now is
the quiet reminder that you go in differing directions, but they all come with fog, an unease you'll never shake, a gloat, an unheard word, a point of view you don't
waste your eyes with. You are older now, your youth only a faded, bitter tang.
Written: January 2021. Explanation: A poem written fairly quickly in my own time. A link to my Facebook writing page can be found on my HP home page.