Fear not the chill of Sundays Monday sorrow,
Or how Saturday once felt,
As Friday’s yesterday,
Fear not the ones who set the clocks,
Hold high the whips,
Or command the time,
For breaking rocks.
Nor the uncharted different planes,
Where wild eyed dreamers’ dream,
Of a woken tomorrow,
Free of pain, free sorrow.
And in your moment of now not memory then,
Do not wait for the someone, do not wait for the them,
You are your now,
You were your then.
Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.