Tomorrow Never
Comes
Hope hides under
the bed,
a forgotten pair
of shoes,
waiting for the
next journey,
that never seems
to come.
Low crouching,
grasping reach,
searching for the
prize. Brushing
off cobwebs of old
memories
seeking rebirth,
with no recollection
of a time that
came before.
Death is a reality
that cannot
be ignored. Marching along
a wooden walkway,
destiny
holds out a
foreboding hand.
Hours passed in
darkness, traveling
over unknown
landscape. I hear
but cannot see. A
thin veil of faith disguising
all my sins.
Tomorrow comes too quickly
when tomorrow
never comes.
Ann Christine Tabaka
Ann
Christine Tabaka has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been
internationally published, and won poetry awards from publications. She lives
in Delaware, USA. She loves gardening and cooking. Chris lives with
her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are: Ariel Chart, Page &
Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, The Paragon Journal, The
Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak
Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, The
Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine, Ann Arbor Review, The
McKinley Review. *(a complete list of publications is available upon request)
Tags:
Poetry