When January hurts, with its icy sting,
And the world seems covered in a frosty cling,
The days are short, the nights are long,
And the bitter wind sings a mournful song.

The trees stand bare, stripped of their leaves,
As if mourning the loss of the warmth it once received.
The sun hides behind a blanket of gray,
And the world seems trapped in a cold, lifeless display.

But amidst the chill, there's a glimmer of hope,
A reminder that even in darkness, we can cope.
For January may hurt, but it also brings,
A chance for growth, for new...