Tomorrow, I Promise
Waiting; waiting; waiting…
in the dark of night.
Cotton in my pocket,
soon I’ll be alright.
Twisting in my fingers,
I don’t know what to do,
I think I best buy double,
or else I dream of two.
Nervous disposition;
a familial despair,
tomorrow will be different…
(I see him walking there)
I’ll change up in the morning,
I promise to myself.
Then I stumble onward home,
that idea on the shelf.
Nightmare peppered fevers,
faces of the past.
Whispered truths from lovers
Epiphany, at last.
But fading light erases,
before the mind can take,
what the new day offers.
The Cycle never breaks.
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