No One Ever Writes About Tomorrow Poem by D.N. Rebb

No one ever writes about tomorrow
Brief moments of truth around dim corner
Yesterday's rich harvest solely borrowed
Guilt-ridden as privileged foreigners
Late sun sets, without distant fireworks
The true muse awaits like a lifeless corpse

No one ever writes about tomorrow
With memoirs in tiny scattered fragments
On road to recovery, so narrow
Despite silver linings one only dreamt
A redundant blank canvas silhouette
Sentimental nostalgia to forget

No one ever writes about tomorrow
As viable highroads wisely buy time
Senile golden rules regress to zero
Such modest proposal restricting spine
Time is warranted like a padded cell
As yesterday's absence orders farewell