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Someone that I cared for Once asked my favorite word. I didn’t have an answer then, But now I do. Tomorrow is a word that rings, A bell whose sound we chase and try to catch. Through the years we follow, It’s echoes full of hope and full of fear. Tomorrow makes no promises, No warranties on joy; An accident, a tragedy, Could be beyond this night. But though I know that this is true, And sadness comes for all, Tomorrow too could hold the door For my future self That joyful woman I hope to be Once all is right that can be fixed. And so I chase tomorrow’s ringing, Clear and pure through the nights of time, And I know that soon the night will end, And she’ll wait for me at tomorrow.
0
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
Tomorrow
Someone that I cared for Once asked my favorite word. I didn’t have an answer then, But now I do. Tomorrow is a word that rings, A bell whose sound we chase and try to catch. Through the years we follow, It’s echoes full of hope and full of fear. Tomorrow makes no promises, No warranties on joy; An accident, a tragedy, Could be beyond this night. But though I know that this is true, And sadness comes for all, Tomorrow too could hold the door For my future self That joyful woman I hope to be Once all is right that can be fixed. And so I chase tomorrow’s ringing, Clear and pure through the nights of time, And I know that soon the night will end, And she’ll wait for me at tomorrow.
April-morning
Written by
19/F/Virginia
Mar 18, 2018
Mar 18, 2018 at 10:50 AM UTC
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