Posted in Poetry

Tomorrow’s Gift by L. M. Montes

I went about my day,
then evening came to sit,
wait I did for night so say,
I’ll send your soul adrift.

Tomorrow, we’re promised naught,
just knowledge it could be,
so in limbo I am caught,
afloat with you and me.

At last the morn breaks through,
the sun reflects the dew,
all seems right,
with sun so bright,
then life quick ran askew.

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