This is a poem about celebrating our accomplishments despite them not satisfying our new year resolutions in any particular year.

The year is ending

And I am tired of pretending

That my 2023 goals don’t exist. 

Do you want to hear the twist? 

I seem to have forgotten

Every single line in the checklists. 

I need to pick up my diary

And try to do some lifts

Or stop eating spaghetti/ice cream/cake.

Maybe I should open my novel number 7

Document. And read those 170

Unread books on my shelf. 

And definitely join Spanish classes

And get a pair of blue light glasses. 

How do I forget all of these conditions

That I placed on a year which

Gave me my postgrad. A dreamy vacation. 

A timely new diagnosis. Salvation.

More vacations. Winterline. 

A published poem. Family time. 

212 read books. Mastery over stir fry tofu. 

New friendships. I hope you know I am talking about you. A poetry blog. 

I can’t and won’t find the list

And I will cherish my ignorant bliss. 

And make a new series of checklists on January one

And forget about them by the time September/December comes knocking around. 

-Armaan

Featured image credits: Photo by Fa Barboza on Unsplash