Here’s to the year
That’s drawing near
(Or, depending when you read this,
Is already here),
I year where the queer
Have no need to fear,
Where we can steer clear
Of those who would sneer
And our get-in-shape goals
Can go get back in gear.
May your pain disappear
In the upcoming year
And if you partook of beer
Of deer may you steer clear.
I hope that my well wishes
Have thus been made clear
For this poem, readers dear,
You will find endeth here.
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