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    dots Submission Name: tomorrowdots

    Author: Maverique
    ASL Info:    25/F/Own little world
    Elite Ratio:    3.27 - 438/478/128
    Words: 82
    Class/Type: Misc/Misc
    Total Views: 735
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 638


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.


    tomorrow, they say.

    tomorrow will be different. better.

    but what do they know?
    nothing of acute coronary syndrome, certainly.
    and even less about the certainty of death at 1 a.m.

    or of the many different ways a heart can be bruised beyond healing
    and salvation

    the meaning of carelessness
    and selfishness;
    of pain and fear and loss

    or the ruling rage that silences reason

    yes, tomorrow.

    what of it?

    Submitted on 2009-10-20 10:37:29     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      Today is but the tomorrow that was the care of yesterday ( a line in my poem "Time Marches On").

    Tomorrow; the place where anticipation begins and reality is held in abeyance!

    You have created a very thought provoking bit of verse here, lovely lady!
    | Posted on 2009-12-24 00:00:00 | by Ron Cole | [ Reply to This ]
      This fits a little too sadly with my mood today. Hope dies, right? And what then?

    I hope this feeling doesn't stay with you too long. Onwards and upwards. Yes.

    What of it?

    (what a perfect ending).

    This is well written, the rhyme is good, not dum-de-dum-de-dum, it's natural and it fits.

    We can only think of tomorrow sometimes, and maybe tomorrow will be better. Who knows?

    (this is a crappy comment, I'm sorry. This has made me feel a dull ache in my stomach and a sinking-mind and thick water so my thoughts have gone a little awol).

    | Posted on 2009-11-04 00:00:00 | by AlyRose | [ Reply to This ]
    You've grown in your writing with this piece, piglet.
    Here, a response, because, why not, right?

    Tomorrow they'll say

    a day of apples and Bella—
    here, on this balcony
    facing the sun.

    Late spring

    and mandarins
    in my pantry; the orange glisten
    of summer nearing, nascent

    in bas-relief

    of curled clouds fresco-white, bleached stone
    hanging over as a new moon

    | Posted on 2009-10-30 00:00:00 | by trinityfinger | [ Reply to This ]

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