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IF TOMORROW DOES NOT COME



If tommorow does not come.
what will I write in my autobiography with all these plans still in my head?
These dreams, exiled hopes and my un-used honeymoon hours?
If tommorow hold back or shed some days,
If they get there with zoning- all these politicians.
And zone my days for more votes- my only part in life's choir!
If tommorow does not know that Silence is an unspoken question.
So that only Hollywood may show how fragile is the thin line,
 between the beast within, and this beauty we portray.
If tommorow does not come.

If tommorow does not come.
Will my stories not be like the stories of those who tell stories?
For already Inflation has not spared hope.
Or should I just stay awake like the bride would,
to keep watch so the wedding eve won't be longer than twenty four hours?
For tommorow is the only  lorry with my everything,
The few not yet in heaven.
 And I know I have no card of the party in power or the one to follow,
So what if the budget is on diet and tommorow  is the extra weight shed?

If tommorow does not come.
may fire catch cold may Death die sudden.
As we must call back the future and give it poison.
And for the planned protest at Mars, the past must attend.
For there are events that must hold even if  breathing goes on recess.

If tommorow does not come let every other day be still born.
Let the planned jailbreak at hell hold and let hands now wash water.
Until we sort out the illegal days within our remaining years,
and confirm that this thing we are living is indeed  life.
And call earth to the tribunal at Jupiter and reshuffle the Julian calendar, and raise a committee to  investigate fate.
For since the future and the past are two sides of a seesaw,
why would the past be if tommorow will not come?

For we know the rich have packed for Mars.
And We will never meet again except to return these borrowed bodies.
And as they prepare, the climate has brought a petition,
but tomorrow must come to give evidence.
 So if tommorow does not come!
If we are paid to say none paid us,
I repeat, let their fire catch cold and let Death die sudden.
For our life's parole we must break and attempt to find out,
how far Mars is from earth, on foot.
© Samson Abanni

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