To see the year going, going and gone,
Warning of no sort, it gave to me,
Out in the year two thousand sixteen.
The days went by, a second too fast,
Hours passed by me, an idle onlooker
On the plains so vast and expanse,
Under the tree I lay noticing, yet,
So lazy to get up and do it all,
And watching it all unravel.
Now, it all strikes me hard,
Down on my chest, as my eyes draw their curtains away.
So, this moment has finally come,
In which I ponder on my past 366 days,
Till the last day has come,
Even now my eyes fail to visualize,
Near the end, that has come—-and gone.