Our Expectations
Our expectations rarely match
Reality, it seems,
For it’s not possible to snatch
The dazzle of our dreams.
The same applies to dreaded fears
Which cloud a coming date.
The truth, when it at last appears,
Proves we can’t speculate
About what hasn’t yet occurred;
Such attitudes waste time.
Our future’s either dark or blurred
And changes on a dime.
So whether outcomes fall quite short
Or drastically exceed
Whatever we’d envisioned
What is always guaranteed
Is that no one ever knows for sure,
Including every sage,
If our hopes or fears are premature,
Until we turn the page.
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