Tomorrow

.

The clock face is watching me,

Scornfully,

Like he knows that with each movement of his hands,

He is counting the seconds

I waste.

.

The sun is glaring down at me,

Piercingly,

Because she knows that her steady flight across the sky,

Slow yet sure,

Will always be constant.

And I have no understanding of constancy.

.

The stars do not smile,

But glower at me,

Content in their patronising dance

Of productivity.

.

And the wind is the worst –

Forever moving and changing,

Anonymous and intangible -

Like the words I so falsely grasp

And fight to imprison in my lines

Of desperate eloquence.

.

This is frightful malevolence.

.

There was once a time

When the clock face would smile at me,

Because he knew that with each movement of his hands,

He was counting the seconds

In which I dreamed.

.

There was once a time

When the sun would embrace me,

Because she knew that her steady flight across the sky

Was as slow and sure,

And as constant,

As the construction of my ambitions.

.

There was once a time,

When the stars would delight me,

Because their dance of beauty

And their gracious duty –

Of telling stories –

Was so similar to mine.

.

And there was once a time,

When I rejoiced in the wind

And it's ephemeral nature –

So like my imaginings,

So like my thoughts,

That we were good friends,

The wind and I.

.

We shared dreams of bright tomorrows,

But every day I learnt to say –

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow,

Dear friend,

Tomorrow we'll walk that way.

.

But tomorrow has become yesterday,

And my dreams are so far away.

.

What if I missed my chance?