The door of the year
Scars through the window of the past
On my soul, what has amassed
Is growth an option?

The emotion of the year
Fidelity is an illusion
My center stays in seclusion
Is benevolence an assumption?

The failure of the year
Expectations of a dynasty
I am the pariah of this ancestry
Is their past my path?

The revision of the year
The corrupt invades the blooms
Taints them to their dooms
Is innocence probable?

The contrast of the year
The warmth of the sun’s gold
Only reminds me of my inside’s cold
Is tepidity possible?

The mezzo of the year
Half has happened already
Will the other hold as unsteady
Is continuity a claim?

The façade of the year
Masks of ideal thrown around
To their lies, they are bound
Is anything sacred?

The furnace of the year
The heat, like hands at my throat
Only kindling, the public promotes
Is a siren being rung?

The submission of the year
Cookie cutter is the only norm
What option is there, unless to conform
Is uniqueness sufficient?
The loneliness of the year
Here, the children hand-in-hand
But all alone is how I stand
Is camaraderie achievable?

The script of the year
I don’t remember my audition
But it seems, my life’s already written
Is manipulation inevitable?

The nadir of the year
Calls for aid thrown away
All that’s left is judgment day
All is answered.