I’m sorry you’re being blamed for what happened.
Being called shitty
even though the circumstances were out of your hands.
You arrived with such promise, such round-number fortune.
We all wanted to believe
you were going to be our year.
New babies, new clients, promotions, weddings, travel —
We had big plans for you.
No doubt you were as eager as we were.
the rug was pulled out from under you
by something none of us could see.
Now the floor is lava, the world is on fire, people are dying and
you and I and all of us are wondering
how did we get here?
How can we get back to
We can’t now, not now, not now when so much has been lost.
I empathize with the promise, the optimism
you once held within you, rising and falling, swelling with expectation
that now feels as empty as a hole in the heart.
it seems we were all naive to hope.
We look ahead now, past you, turn the calendar page to the new year,
pinning our promises on a new number, a new leader, a new life.
Some of us are smiling
although lately, it’s harder to tell.
I’ll remember you, 2020.
The once-in-a-lifetime year
that changed everything.