Tomorrow waits for me,
Not begging nor pleading
Upon its arrival
Of my conscious mind
And yet it further
Calls, steadfast, resolute,
Omnipotent in this
New day that is my own;
But the tide of the past
Leaves old worries upon
What could have been, what is.
Not begging nor pleading
Upon its arrival
Of my conscious mind
And yet it further
Calls, steadfast, resolute,
Omnipotent in this
New day that is my own;
But the tide of the past
Leaves old worries upon
What could have been, what is.