the calendar flips yet we remain the same - as cold in January as we were in December - we declare ourselves new people, promising fresh starts; we change nothing, though we know our deficiencies and self-flagellate with great remorse; declaring we will improve, we find too much comfort in the simple ease of remaining the same; accepting our limitations as time, age or disposition, excusing in ourselves what we won't in others - afraid of the greatness we might achieve with change.
