I saw tomorrow
Through the wispy
Clouds of today
And every time
I reached forward
To grasp it,
It dissolved
Into today.
That is
Until the day
I met Jessop,
A string bean
Of a man
Who wasted
Neither words
Nor penny.
A man who's
Deeds spoke
Louder and coarser
Than he could even
With lips and tongues.
In simple words
He told me
That tomorrow
Was never mine
To have.
In his estimation,
Tomorrow didn't exist
But a concept
In the minds of men
Who have never
Come to terms with
Today.
I scoffed at
His words as
Nothing more than
His personal,
Skewed view
Of the world.
Then I got
To thinking,
Which led me
To figuring that
Part of what
Jessop said made
Some kinda sense.
Tomorrow will never
Be had. I will
Never feel tomorrow's
Sun on my skin.
Even if tomorrow came,
It would not be
Called tomorrow,
It will be today.
No matter
How I turn it,
I can only control
Today.
So I put aside
My desire for tomorrow,
I rolled up my sleeves
And got to work
On today,
This day and
When the next comes,
I will work on
That, too.
I now work
On making today
A good day,
A day to remember.
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