Tomorrow maybe

 

Light golden streams through broken windows

dust dancing on the rays illuminating broken furniture and broken man

He stirs from dreams dark and lucid with eyes hollow

And reaches, smile fading, for what is long lost

while through his fingers glittering hope slips and drips

spiralling downwards and gurgling away

until aching, shaking, breaking he rises

and stumbles, stomach rumbling

and so another day begins cup in hand and faithful dog in tow

hoping perhaps tomorrow will be different

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Author: Michael

Husband, dad,programmer, comic collector and proud Yorkshireman. I have no idea why im here or why im writing but i rather enjoy it. no great fan of punctuation;

13 thoughts on “Tomorrow maybe”

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