Waiting For Tomorrow

I was waiting for tomorrow;
I heard a voice asking, What is today;
Filled with a blank expression;
I sensed someone, holding my hand;
With a soft whisper, Baby;
What is the fear that is holding you back;

Time is asking you to be cheerful;
As you, still turn down to smile;
All your happiness is going in veins;
You have come so far;
I know you’re hurt;
Strive loving people around you;

Haunted with fear to love again;
Wondering If something wrong with your stars;
Hold you’re hand near your heart baby;
It is asking you for help to heal your pain;
Why you refuse you listen;
I know the body got tried;

Giving love to everyone;
As the feet decline to move on;
But life is pleading to live life;
As time run with no control;
Baby time cannot be ceased or imprisoned;
You can feel it every movement;

Time runs with different shades;
Sadness tagged with happiness;
It runs as a wildfire;
A string of fleeting moments;
Bagging over memories;
Some to fetch and some to lose;

Be a traveller in your life;
So you never stop in one place;
You gaze into your future;
Thou, it was never meant to stay back;
Let your tears follow;
And smile sweep your feet;

Making you stand upside down;
Allowing yourself to get absorbed with the present;
Freeze the movements of little things;
Making your heart to blush;
As you fall in love with everything you do;

Having an expiry date to reach;
When we have a little chat;
Over crazy wild things we did together;

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  • Sangavi
  • Being In Love is Being in the second life of the fantasy; I keep myself drunk in poems where I live a life of all the poets;
    Emily Dickinson, ‘Much Madness Is Divinest Sense.’
    Anonymous, ‘Fowls in the Frith.’ This poem, which is around 800 years old, is ambiguous
    Oliver Goldsmith, ‘An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.’

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