Tomorrow

Tomorrow ain't here yet, Its still hours away And when it comes, I hold onto it Only to realize it's an illusion. In my grasp Is today, and today Is not enough, Is not what I expected. Once again, I hedge my bets On tomorrow. Then a million tomorrows Pass me by, Or so it appears When I look back. Looking back at the wasted Yesterdays, I put back on My rose coloured shades And look towards tomorrow. I, eventually, regretted my yesterdays And dreamt of tomorrows, Then one day, I looked At the today that stood Before me, recognizing it what it is. Today was the clay, I could still mold Into the tomorrow I yearned for. Today was the marble Ready and waiting for my chisel. The blank canvas Prepared for my paint. The blank page At the ready for my words. Slowly, with much resistance, I put aside my rose coloured shades, I pulled up my sleeves And dealt with today. I used the tools and lessons Of yesterday and my desires And wants for tomorrow, And I made today The foundation for a beautiful Tomorrow. The beautiful tomorrows That became beautiful todays.