My tomorrow was my choice.
It would be a day without fantasy
A day without sobbing,
without wiping tears of bitterness and sorrow.
It would be a day shielded by smiles,
Like a shooting star from east to west
Making you and I giving the depth and heights of all wishes dwelling within it.
If today was the day,
Your heart wouldn’t be disheartened,
Nor restrained from howling the rights of an empty stomach,
That suffers from error and neglect of a bureacratic capitalist.
If my yesterday was a test written the day before,
I would correct the scrawl of my shivering hand
And re-write it with accurate rainbow patterns.
If my tomorrow, my today and my yesterday had never existed,
My blotted words wouldn’t be so distinctively benevolent.