There are only a handful of days
Left on the walled calendar
And while we want to accomplish
So much more, next year
Will have to do
And that isn't something that needs
To deter us—
We aren't meant to spread ourselves
Thin; expecting to rise out
Of the pressure we're buried under.
The hourglass will let us know when
We need to flip the impending sands.
Let's gradually cross things out
Before it's time to flip once again.