300
Sometimes I lay on silken sheets of thought and allow yesterday’s weather to wash over me.
Sometimes I breath the wind and recollect the battles fought in an effort to learn from it’s mistake.
Sometimes Yesterday’s cuts become Today’s gashes.
And sometimes Today’s bumps are Tomorrow’s rashes.
And when people say that Today is nothing more than Yesterday’s Tomorrow
I wish to Tell them of Today’s story and how she was born a bastard unto a mother of worry.
I wish to profess how beautifully God sculpted Ms.Today.
I wish to cry against their grouping of Today with Tomorrow and Yesterday.
I plead with my mind to let forth the words from my lips to describe that Today is not her mother Yesterday.
And that SHE has the power to leave her mother’s lineage to create anew.
Today can build kingdoms from the air if you only let her free from your melancholy chains.
And her daughter Tomorrow’s birth can not be relied upon for she is only conceived from what her mother has married.
