Tomorrow
By Dogbane
Tomorrow I stand on the cusp of tomorrow, Gazing into his dark recesses. Eyes wide in awe, Of the power tomorrow possesses. For in but a moment, I'll feel his jaws tightly grip, And, with that beast's mighty claws will he tear and will he rip. He'll bend me and twist me and shape me someway, Until I'm no longer me, the me I am here today. At last his work done, he'll leave me alone, And, I'll find myself changed right down to the bone. It will be a new me when tomorrow has fled, What me will it be that he leaves in my stead? Then, shall I rest when tomorrow is through? Shall I take time to see this me he's made new? Alas, there's no rest, though tomorrow is done, For then come his brothers marching one after one. Each one so intent on the job he must do, To rip me apart and build me up new. DogbaneThis poem deals with that uncomfortable subject of never-ending change in life. Written February 14th, 2002 © on Feb 14 2002 11:02 AM PST 0 • 1
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"Tomorrow..."