The night is young,
the year is not.
The moon is shinning,
but I am not.

I'm writing a poem
and not thinking
about how the year
is almost ending.

Cheers come from the dimly lit television
as some guy tries to shoot a goal.
Clicking noises come from my mom's fingernails against her new laptop.

There are eight people in this room
providing a cheery atmosphere
but it's raining heavily outside
and I feel remorse.

I try not to think
about how the year is ending
but unfortunately
it doesn't seem like it's working.

Face the future with a frown
as it will be another year of suffering.
What I need of more
is some **** courage.

Face the future with a smile
even if it brings uncertaincy.
There are many things to look forward to
like a new room or a new start.

An optimist or a pessimist
the new year is coming
and my dear
there's no more running
(away from it)

W.H.Y~