Chinese New Year Poem

[In retrospect, this post might come up kinda, sorta, maybe admonishing-ish. I swear on my beloved granny's grave that it was all self derivative.]

It's that time of year again,
where every chink and all their friends
fill their tummies to the brim,
with roast duck, steamboat and gin.

Big bangs light up the night air,
the dust filtering out their glare,
as orange peels adorn the streets,
and cigarette buds dot concrete.

Everybody's having fun,
but there always has to be one,
sitting away from the crowd,
mute but their thoughts equally loud.

People dotted across the globe,
memories crowding their frontal lobe,
filled with issues unresolved,
after a year of having evolved.

Nostalgia overtakes their brain,
to the last time they had chow mein,
as fireworks filled the air,
above loved ones who once cared.

Now things just aren't the same,
after an entire year's worth of change,
some people left while others came,
and strangers set their hearts aflame,

But somewhere else in the world,
families sit in the dark and cold,
like someone pointed out of the blue,
said "sorry, no new year for you".

They live between alleyways,
sleeping next to sickened strays,
others abide in war torn zones,
everyday testing the unknown.

Now if only they had the luxury,
to dwell on typical anxieties,
like reminiscing on ex boyfriends,
or tying up countless loose ends.

In the end life don't seem that bad,
nor the tribulations that we've had ,
So every time you raise your glass,
raise it for the ones who can't.