In a book called tomorrow
He writes only sorrow
A trash bin
For the vast dim
Cast in from the outside
In his heart he knew only today to confide
Which meant tomorrow can wait
Today to choose my gait to life’s fate
Let others wait…
And then die
Like a guy in the field
Hoping for a pop fly
We stop shy
Of being ourselves
Worshipping pop culture consumer elves
Awethentic 