An orange sun burns in the horizon
It is asking me a question I do not know how answer
Will you be here tomorrow?
But I can make no promises of my coming hours
I can see no future
So I tell it
I hope so
God, do I hope so
YOU ARE READING
WHEN YOU LEAVE THIS PLACE (WHAT WILL YOU TAKE?)
Poetrya collection of my poetry of the past 3 years. i appreciate you giving it a chance.
December, 5:17 p.m
An orange sun burns in the horizon
It is asking me a question I do not know how answer
Will you be here tomorrow?
But I can make no promises of my coming hours
I can see no future
So I tell it
I hope so
God, do I hope so