Tomorrow Poem by Zane Shoemaker

Time is coming at me faster than I had hoped earlier on today

I see the inside of the room most times, the perfect symmetry of the walls

All is orderly, so little resemblance to the outside world, but who am I to presume

The tall mountains of my childhood are gone

The image of rolling towers of stone and life stick in my brain, but I have no connection

All I will see tomorrow is the same

The massive wheel which I control my death machine with, with blind conviction that all mechanisms will work correctly

The interior of a room, surrounded by the fantasies of my being merely a year ago, fantasies now deteriorated into the monotony of life

The interior of another room, with a screen with which I breathe in entertainment in hopes of relaxation

Perhaps the dark interior of yet another room, with a smaller screen lighting the darkness, with symbols flowing upon it in a mess of meaning as I am tonight

Tomorrow will be yet another today, time is not moving forward, but staying still while I transpire the limbo

I wonder of all the reality which will occur without the slightest care of my tomorrow, I wonder if it is real or if I am god and my tomorrow is my sole creation

I fall asleep and move into the mystic realm of dreams, the mystic realm which acts as a transportation device into tomorrow's today, and wonder if perhaps the dreams are the only place where I truly experience time

I will never know, but the sinking in my bed indicating my lover's weight beside me makes me realize knowing is false.