Day ten lands in that strange quiet between calendars, when people throw confetti over unresolved harm and call it renewal.
This poem doesn’t toast the turning of the year.
It questions it.
Because remember a new date doesn’t undo old violence.
A holiday doesn’t cancel policy.
And cheer, when it’s demanded instead of earned, becomes another form of pressure.
This is for anyone who feels the dread creep in louder than the countdown.
“New Year, Same Fight”
As we get closer
to the end of this year,
I can’t even pretend
that the fear of the coming one
doesn’t outweigh the cheer.
How do I celebrate
a future where we can’t
agree to be different
and still live in harmony?
How do I look forward
to another year
of hate and policy
thrown about haphazardly,
leaving only those like you and me
standing under the terror rain?
How do you play along,
pretend everything’s okay,
celebrate a holiday
that only marks the turning of years
and never the growth of humankind?
You must be out of your god damn mind.
Give me something worth celebrating,
and with you, I will cheer.
Until then,
I already have something worth fighting for,
so I won’t be blinded
by your unwarranted holiday.
Comment one thing you’re refusing to celebrate blindly this year, and why. Or Share one value you’re carrying into the new year even when it costs you comfort.
Up Poet’s Note
This poem came from watching joy be weaponized.
From seeing celebration demanded from people who are actively being harmed by the systems others toast.
Hope isn’t confetti.
Optimism isn’t obedience.
Refusing to cheer doesn’t mean refusing to live.
Sometimes it means choosing clarity over distraction.
If this poem sounds like someone you know, someone exhausted by forced positivity, someone whose survival keeps getting labeled as “too political”… Share this with them. Or send it to the person who keeps telling you to “just focus on the good” while ignoring the cost.
Not every new year deserves applause.
Some deserve resistance, honesty, and memory.
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