Is tomorrow another beginning
Or the end of the beginning
When does the perfect ending come
If it does arrive, what prescribes the reason
To precedent can we hold it to be worrisome
For us, tomorrow is just an anomaly
A wordless remark on the fruit of today
If it does have some patterned conscience, how do we stop hurting
Like birds without flight or wings
Grasping the sky, without purpose
Always singing the caged bird's song
Forever, even when tomorrow comes
Bolted doors will be removed and empty as windows
Opening of loading docks for homeless ships
To return, without knowing they ever left
Abandoning the captain of this vessel
Who believes in patience
And living in the present