:: No tomorrow

Of what would man forever speak?

Of fruits, of love, the color white?
What is the content of the leak?
That lies in numbers in life’s pipe.

Unfortunately the color grey
Will fill and flood our tiny way
Yet still this grey can’t break our back
At least the present isn’t black...

But what if this moment, today,
Should not be thought of in such way
Would man talk only about sorrow?
What is today, with no tomorrow?