We're waiting for tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes
Our last breath is right upon our heels
Yet we still refuse to run
86,400 seconds
And we're in another day
All slipping through our figures
As we look the other way
Days, weeks, months, and years
Are made up of right now
A string of fleeting moments
That we never pin down
We gaze into the future
As though it's where we're meant to be
Always planning for that day
When we can say that we're happy
We spend so long looking forward
That we may as well be blind
Since we don't see until the very end
All the things we've left behind
Now I know it's just a theory
But I think I've worked out how
The only way to happiness
Is to love what we have now
I saw this poem and I wanted to share it.
I hope you like it
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