People are always getting ready for tomorrow,

But tomorrow never gets ready for them.

In fact, it doesn't even know they are there.

 

They choose and anxiety -

Or rather,

An anxiety chooses them -

And thankfulness is

Lost upon their minds

Like some hope of sun

In the dark of an invisible moon.

 

They sat up a camp in the midst of tomorrow's

Apathetic glance 

And they sleep there until

The forget what they want to remember

And remember what they want to forget.

 

And I,

Yes I,

Have slept in this camp

Many a night

Trying to remember some dream,

But all I have ever found

Is the feeling of it.

 

And I found myself wondering:

Where men can't live,

How could gods fare any better?

 

But then I heard Him whisper.

 

My heart,

He said,

My heart.

 

And I then knew I had been placing hopes

Where I had no reason to.

I had been hoping it would be brighter where,

For all I knew,

The world only grew darker.

 

My real hope lies 

In the one whose word

I praise;

It is God who holds my trust

And stills my anxious breaths.

 

This world shoves those past

Who are caught unaware

Leaving them to question 

In what direction

Lost men veer.

 

They live in shadows of trouble,

Thinking that,

If trouble comes when they

Least expect it,

Perhaps the thing to do is to

Always expect it.

 

But tomorrow still never learns

That they are there.

 

The only peace that shines

In tomorrow

Comes from a divine sun.

 

 

 

 

*Poem comes primarily from quotes out of The Road by Cormac McCarthy