Sometime,
In 2078, time will unveil some thoroughly unnecessary news.
It’s news that you didn’t want, didn’t expect, and probably could’ve lived blissfully without.
When it arrives reality might tilt a little.
And beneath the surface of normalcy,
Confusion will dissolve into understanding.
You will be confused, no more.
That is my wish for you.
I’ll only be 90. But you, who knows who you’ll be.
Dec 9, 2025
Dec 9, 2025 at 11:54 PM UTC
Sometime,
In 2078, time will unveil some thoroughly unnecessary news.
It’s news that you didn’t want, didn’t expect, and probably could’ve lived blissfully without.
When it arrives reality might tilt a little.
And beneath the surface of normalcy,
Confusion will dissolve into understanding.
You will be confused, no more.
That is my wish for you.
I’ll only be 90. But you, who knows who you’ll be.
A poem for the future or the futurists. Either or.
