Is There A Tomorrow? Poem by Abinesh Anbazhagan

My life, and outside my window
dust, low and arid
From south came an air, to take them all
you alone stood by me as a merry angel

Knitting a sweater to me as your kitten
I pulled it till hands, tight and warm
The last time I wore, I tore it more
Blame me, I'm reek and ail

I remember you still,
So kindled a love, like a pot lot of honey
I see you as my mother in the reflection of your eye drop
each time you think of my disease

It was killing me slow
you loved me more
Faster I die
you told me that's a lie

As a believer just for you
I believed the lie
Hands tight, never you left me
but I have my first seat to heaven

This last day, I know
I don't want to see my mother in your eye drop
I see you, you should be happy alone
With hopes you're still stitching my sweater

Tomorrow never comes,
heard when I delayed works in life!
Now I rethink without having anything in hands,
except your hands in life!
Is there a tomorrow?