The Aspiring Archivist

a little poem

So it's over.

The year is winding down.

You can rest.

Make a smile from that frown,

Wish for the best.

It may not have been the greatest year

But it wasn't quite the worst.

Now you've got nothing left to fear,

The bubble's not yet burst.

No regrets, well,

Maybe a few.

It's hard to tell,

Maybe one or two.

Maybe four or five,

Maybe a hundred.

You tried to strive

But you floundered.

It's fine, it doesn't matter now.

Just tell yourself:

It'll be better next time,

You can improve.

It might've been worse than last time,

But this time you'll prove

You're getting better,

Picking up.

Don't stay tied down,

You should erupt.

You tried last time,

But now, you see,

You'll do it!

Or, maybe...

It won't be better next time, 'cause

Life will be hard.

Why would the future change it?

The future's just another present past the present.

Hey now, look! We're opening presents!

First it's Christmas, then it's New Year's,

And I'll be here, crying new tears.

We raise our glasses to the sky,

But what happens when the sky starts falling down?

Will it be better next time?

I don't really know.

Probably not, but hey, I've

Still got a while to go.