Today you lie down to rest,
your thoughts on a quest,
thinking you didn't do your best.
Guilt spreads to consume,
mistakes replay in full bloom,
stuck in endless tombs
with growing fumes.
Spent your money on the past,
it's filling up the space,
doesn't matter if it's vast,
carry the weight unabashed.
Dear, don't dwell on what you did,
how about what you will,
for if you choose the latter,
it could turn into that wish
you've been waiting for.
Most take that gift for granted,
don't know how much it's enchanted,
lucky for all that it's implanted,
like angels had it branded.
A day with another chance,
where the only way is to advance,
it can make your body dance
in a good kind of trance.
This music is called
tomorrow,
This rhythm named
hope.
And together,
they can put a smile
on
h
e
l
l's
face.
YOU ARE READING
tree.
Poetry"a feast of words about a girl's opinions about life, her love for trees, and a certain boy."
