With the magic of a midnight kiss, a new year is born,

as the clock strikes twelve with a symphony of hope.

Each new year is a blank canvas, untouched by scorn,

a promise whispered in the dark without a mope.

And the stars above are like dreams unspoken,

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as our calendars turns its page with silent grace.

Illuminating a path toward the year unbroken,

as we're given a chance to learn and embrace.

With each sunrise we have a chance to begin,

and unload last year's burdens, let them fade.

When we let the past go, we let new chapters in,

inspiring a whole dawn of possibility, a serenade.

Our resolutions all bloom like flowers in spring,

as they promise change, and grow to spread wings.