We're waiting for tomorrow,
But tomorrow never comes,
Our last breath is right upon our heels,
Yet we still refuse to run,
86 400 seconds,
And we're in another day,
All slipping through our fingers,
As we look the other way,
Days, weeks, months and years,
Are made up right now,
A string of fleeting moments,
That we can never pin down,
We gaze into the future,
As though it's where we're meant to be,
Always planning for that day,
When we can say that we're happy,
We spend so long looking forward,
That we may as well be blind,
Since we don't see till the very end,
All the things we've left behind,
Now I know it's just a theory,
But I think I've worked out how,
The only way to happiness,
Is to love what we have now.
- e.h
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Poetry Fever
Poetryand you sit in there, thinking of everyone's feelings but your own, you wonder if the moon comes up at night so the stars don't feel alone. #frostypoetry #AmayaFrost
