Rainbow Sky ( A Collection )

Tomorrow

The clock ticked one thirty-two
She's staring, blinking, breathing,
Waiting for her phone to blink
Like what her eyes were tired of doing,
Replaying an old playlist,
Of songs playing on their first date,
And rereading messages that were mushy,
Yet true,
A blue baggy sweater she snuggled,
Complaining for choking and drowning
Only if it could talk,
It'll surely complain
Of choking in her arms,
And drowning with salty tears.

The clock ticked three,
She's still wide awake,
Thinking of what might happen,
If she let her eyes close,
And indulge in a bitter slumber,
How could she sleep,
If the next morning bound to birth,
Is the wedding of the man she loves?