The Tomorrow

A pensive mood presses its talons quietly.
Tomorrow, like the moon, my former life will wane
Renewing, to a new version -
Different, but, underneath it I am the same.
The unknown, reaches out to grab my wrist
Rather, it rolls it's eyes.
It has been calling for a long while.
So long, I heard it pacing the boards and
Drumming its fingers impatiently,
Moaning and complaining about me not taking the hint.

My clothes are ironed, ready and
My bag tight packed.
At long last I feel that thrill of new ventures
Exhilaration
I am kicking my heels.
Alive in my skin

But for now, sleep.
Rest
And dreams of what might be.




Poetry by 1LFD
Read 47 times
Written on 2021-11-07 at 23:59

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