In certain months of every year
I get the same feeling
it’s the exact same feeling as the exact same time…
The years are passing (I think)
… but every year
… déjà vu?
or is this the same year stuck on repeat?
over and over and over and over and over and over again.
Maybe we’re going in circles.
Though, it seems to me
that we aren’t moving at all
did I say we? me, myself and i
as you and your years
These words, they’re déjà vu too,
written countless times, but I find –
find the right ones? no. – find they lose their
once the moment’s passed
(don’t worry, it’ll be back.)
(it always come back)
(back to this)
And I’m back, it’s back, we’re back, to going;
10 backward, 1 step more? I don’t want to repeat a cliché, I get enough of the same, being stuck in Day after dAy after daY that has that feeling. The one I can’t escape.
Or maybe it’s just me.
I’ll remember this,
and I’ll write a new poem, nextTHISyear
and it shall begin…
“In certain months of every year
I get the same feeling…”