Tomorrow

Just a small something I wrote a long time ago, never showed it to anyone till now

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1. Tomorrow

Poetry, just chaotic words, twisted into beauty,
Bitter truths, corruptions
weary realities,
exposed through well placed pieces of an alphabet,

Words are that which offer hope for a better tomorrow,
And despair at the darkness of yesterday,
A million yesterdays, where mans only friend has been pain,
Suffering.
An unknown number of tomorrows, with the dream that they hold some kind of inspiration,
new dawns and ideas, 
new reasons to be thankful for each day.
We cheat and we steal,
Complain, but take no action,
Say people have it worse, as an excuse.
Though, comparisons are inevitable,
They are meaningless in the context of individuals.
Suffering is suffering.
Pain is pain.
Just like joy,
One person’s smile will never match another,
For we all pick what we lay importance on,
And yet we do it.
Through our fault or theirs? I’ll never know.
Though keep dreaming of a day, unlike yesterdays,
A truly, different, tomorrow.

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