#YearEndEchoes
As the clock strikes midnight, cheers abound,
New Year's resolutions, easily found.
Gyms crowded, diets embraced,
Yet by February, most are effaced.

Confetti falls, optimism high,
A year ahead, where dreams will fly.
But reality sneaks in, sly and slyer,
Resolutions crumble in the quagmire.

January blues, a familiar tune,
Gym memberships wane, like a deflating balloon.
Promises made, but oh, how they bend,
A new year's cycle, a recurring trend.

Yet, in this irony, a rhythm persists,
Hope springs eternal, despite the twists.
So, here's to the cycle, the annual jest,
Happy New Year, may it be the best!
© Folkland