New Years Eve is fast approaching,

And busy shoppers hurry by,

To buy those sparkly, noisy things,

To set off in the sky.

Oh how I dispise the date,

When they come out here by me.

For they don't know that I live and breathe.

When they set their fireworks free.

At the stroke of midnight,

The city falls into kayos,

As if the Easter bunny died,

Or the tooth fairy forgot to floss.

Oh how I wish they'd go away,

And leave me to myself.

Broken, lonely, and collecting dust,

Like the only defective shelf.

For every time it comes around,

The fireworks become louder.

And if there's one thing that I've found,

It's surviving it become harder.

I remember when it was just Rosie and myself,

Sitting together on the grass.

Sharing my coat, holding hands,

Watching the seconds pass.

Then when the fireworks were launched up into the sky,

We'd both watch them, and name them,

My Rosallie and I.

We never went to parties,

Or gorged ourselves on chips and coke.

We slept together under the stars,

Until New Years Day awoke.

Now with that memory stabbing through my soul,

Burning in my ming, striking tears I cannot control,

I wish this day would leave,

I wish it would disappear.

I don't need to be reminded,

Of the part of me that died last year.

Really, what does it do for the people?

It's not nearly as festive as Christmas,

It's not nearly as fearful,

As the passing holloween.

I think people don't know what it means either,

But they don't really care.

It's just a time for pleasant weather,

But I know what it means to me.

Another year of suffering,

Another year of fear.

Being forced to live without Rosie,

For yet another year.

The night finally comes,

I force the pillow over my head,

With force almost to breaking my thumbs.

I hear them counting down outside,

10…9…8…

watching skys, their eyes so wide.

I wish it all would wait.

7…6…5…

They're still coming through.

Oh Rosie, my wife, I remember how much this meant to you.

4…3…2…

The count down's almost done.

I squeeze the pillow harder,

Await the very last one.

The people seem to pause,

Stop at number two,

I dread the coming of "one,"

Rosie, I can't help but think of you.

My tentacles awake,

I guess they were asleep.

They notice all the people outside,

And through a hole they peep.

What is this? They wonder.

Why do they all gather?

Why do they count down in numbers?

Father, tell us father!

Reluctant to explain,

I simply just turn over.

What luck they'd ask me now,

Luck like off a four-leaf clover.

The clock finally hit one,

The noises pouring in,

Loud enough for Aaron Carter.

I curl underneath my covers,

And sqeeze my pillow harder.

They cannot cheer for long,

Humans need a break. I assure myself to sleep.

But they party lasts forever,

Kindling the pain inside that keeps.

Look at all the colors!

Look up at the sky!

Why do they shoot fire?

Father, tell us why!

Gathering courage in my heart,

I remove the pillow from my face.

And looking through a hole in the ceiling,

The site I did embrace.

How wonderful it looked,

All the colors up at once.

I searched the sky for more,

A certain kind they had to have.

My eyes stopped at the site,

I found the wondrous one,

The one that was reddish-pink rose,

And exploded like a sun.

Rosie had pointed it out one year,

And said these words to me, "That is our special star,

"That one up over there.

"It has the interests of you,

"And the colors of my name."

Oh how I feared this very moment,

Of seeing it again.

Of seeing what I lost,

And also what I did.

But to my surprise,

As I stared at it for a while,

My emotions bundled up,

But my face produced a smile.

I thought of Rosie,

And how we used to love New Years Eve,

Of how we'd hug and kiss,

And eachother's site we'd never leave.

I didn't know why I didn't think of crashing and burning,

As was displayed by that one.

I only thought of love,

And how Rosie always brought fun.

I guess it could be ok,

Although memories hurt.

But whatever reason I didn't have a melt down,

And jump off a bridge,

When I thought Rosie now,

It brought joy instead of sorrow.

For I didn't realize it,

But reciently when I thought of her,

I thought of darkness,

Instead of the happiness that she brought.

Outside I could hear,

One of Rosie's favorite songs playing by the peir.

"When I say your name,

"You know my heart feels lighter.

"No matter what Im going through,

"When I say your name,

"You know the world gets brighter,

"That's what your love can do."

The song reminded me that Rosie never wanted me to beat myself up.

To punish myself,

To defeat my spirit.

The only thing she cared for was making me happy,

And I her.

My life purpose was to put a smile on my queen's face.

When she died,

My life fell apart.

A big chunk was cut,

From the center of my heat.

And since then, I had grown bitter.

My happiness no more.

I never was as cheerful,

Or as content as before.

Although I didn't think I'll get quite to that extent again

I still won't forget about my sweet Rosie,

And about in a poem she said.

"But power is not measured by biceps,

Or the size of a triton.

It's measured by the courage to start over,

And to say the days'll brighten."