December 31st. A snow covered parking lot.
          White noise. An angry mob. Vacant
          stares. This is not a good place to die.
          And this is not a place of honor.
          Dying alone again, naturally.
          Of artificial means.

December 31st. A broken tv in the alley.
          We left it to rot.
          A silent drive back home.
          Gross on the radio.
          Could have turned things around.

December 31st. A movie on tv. Useless card trivia.
          Almost died in a ditch.
          That was a good place to die.
          They would have mounted a cross.
          I wouldn't have liked that.

December 31st. A gathering of complexity.
          Man blips out of existence,
          atm receipt in his mouth,
          gun in his hand.
          I wish I had been strong enough to do that.
          Video games and bad movies.
          Seems I'm not the only one who
          never forgot.