Tomorrow Never Comes

Tomorrow Never Comes


Hope hides under the bed,

a forgotten pair of shoes,

waiting for the next journey,

that never seems to come.


Low crouching, grasping reach,

searching for the prize. Brushing

off cobwebs of old memories

seeking rebirth, with no recollection

of a time that came before.


Death is a reality that cannot

be ignored.  Marching along

a wooden walkway, destiny

holds out a foreboding hand.


Hours passed in darkness, traveling

over unknown landscape. I hear

but cannot see. A thin veil of faith disguising

all my sins. Tomorrow comes too quickly

when tomorrow never comes.
Ann Christine Tabaka
Ann Christine Tabaka has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize in Poetry, has been internationally published, and won poetry awards from publications. She lives in Delaware, USA.  She loves gardening and cooking.  Chris lives with her husband and two cats. Her most recent credits are: Ariel Chart, Page & Spine, West Texas Literary Review, Oddball Magazine, The Paragon Journal, The Literary Hatchet, The Stray Branch, Trigger Fish Critical Review, Foliate Oak Review, Better Than Starbucks!, Anapest Journal, Mused, Apricity Magazine, The Write Launch, The Stray Branch, Scryptic Magazine, Ann Arbor Review, The McKinley Review. *(a complete list of publications is available upon request)

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