Cliché phrase, prolongs the sick,
next twelve months, is same old pic,
that’s made of habits, and promise; fake,
such is pride, in big mistake,
too much ego, too loud a voice,
creates unhealthy; many choice,
where precious place, is kept in line,
though protest stays; to be a crime,
no good power, to revise life,
the pain remains; existent strife,
as circumstances; that’ve been made,
sees all sorrow, happy played -
holidays, are now suicides,
for no change, e’er confides,
talking soothes, but is no cure,
deep inside; applaud the gore,
it depends; who makes the kill,
a police badge, knows no chill,
neither does the desperate man,
trying to prolong his lifespan,
thus, the future’s already dead,
be the blind, subscribe instead,
where influence, is not aware,
make all ages, cancel care,
design for life, design for hell,
“Happy New Year!” Should ring a bell,
cliché phrase, prolongs the sick,
now’s the time, to rightly pick –
kill double standards and hypocrisies,
bring such error, to its knees,
to bring forth a better era,
brighter years, so much clearer,
no more grotesque celebration,
of such sordid complication,
where no blood’s; on elected hands,
just needed smiles, throughout the lands,
lo’ if this is, too hard an ask,
let cancer custom; make the ash,
to give the cosmos; guilty name,
dark joke “human”; was to blame!