The Turning Page

Here’s a poem about resolutions, contrasting their utility and futility:

The turning page, a brand new year, A time for change, both of hope and fear. Resolutions born, ambitions grand, A fresh start etched in shifting sand.

To break the chains, to mend the past, A brighter future, built to last. To conquer vices, tame the urges, A nobler self, within the surges.

The gym awaits, a diet starts, New habits formed, deep in our hearts. A kinder word, a helping hand, To rise above, to make a better land.

But weeks turn months, the fervor fades, Old patterns weave, familiar shades. The gym forgotten, diet’s plight, Resolutions lost in fading light.

The urge returns, with siren call, And lofty dreams begin to fall. A weary sigh, a sense of shame, Another year, another game.

Yet still we try, with hopeful grace, To find a path, a better space. For in the struggle, seeds are sown, And change may bloom, though barely shown.

Though fleeting goals may slip away, The spirit strives, come what may. To seek the good, the true, the bright, And chase the dawn with all our might.