Poetry

Tomorrow

If tomorrow is the future and yesterday the past, why do they seem so alike, continuous ever ending routines…

Finally allowing myself to live, to test out new water, who knows, I may finally float.

The sense of having a purpose, a will to become someone, the strength to execute. I think I love this feeling.

I always wondered why the sky was blue and grass green, why some were rich and others struggling to make ends meet. In my head, everything has a reason for being, a life goal to be achieved, but yet unknown to most, raising a feeling of desperation.

In the cold days of winter, i tuck myself behind these curtains, huddling my soul, seeking for tue answers. A way to give endless routines a dash of meaning.

Surely, life is a platform of existence and existing is having that spark of purpose as you reach the finish line.

Let tomorrow be a different yesterday with a touch of goodness and joy…

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