And they speak of age – the elder years.


It’s always tomorrow. And tomorrow has not settled. Now,

Darkness, woe, and failure stench abound.

Little things wear; people tear; hearts can only bear – so much


So, mirror mirror on the wall

Look backwards, time fall, nostalgia, time call.

And why, the difference between colorful voiciferance and present indifference,

No longer integrating a full hearted incipient future because that future lied in the ‘morrow.

The ever present present is no longer seen as a present, but a deserved resident right;

And so it’s right that you live for a day just to live for the next? No.


I thought t’is a path you that you take – but t’was a path that you make

Because dirt and ashes of pain and prejudice coming forth do not fall into concrete in the ‘morrow

Not a waiting game for the ‘morrow

You will lose this chess

If you wait.


This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world


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