YEAR 2025 Poem: by Isaiah Alexander

this year began in quiet pain,
same tired sun, same windowpane.
i woke up numb, then woke up late,
the calendar felt like deadweight fate.
i watched my dreams collect some dust,
and learned to stand without much trust.
doors closed so fast, i lost my grip—
each “maybe” turned to “not this trip.”
i prayed for rest, then called it grace,
while smiling through a stranger’s face.
i told myself, “just hold on tight,”
but healing never came overnight.
they said to shine, i dimmed instead—
too many thoughts inside my head.
but even shadows shape the light,
and not all wrongs deserve a fight.
now whispers spread of power’s return,
a name that makes the country burn.
i fear the laws, the loss, the lies—
the red hats hiding in disguise.
the rest of this year might not be gold,
but i’m still here, and still not cold.
i’ll keep my softness, guard my peace,
and give my guilt a small release.
i don’t expect the storms to cease,
just hope they end with some release.
and if the world forgets my name,
i’ll still spit poems through the

Author: poetryfest

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