while today is today, my mind might as well be a someday kinda brain, with all its’ trash-talking, ideas that be a load of crap in the morning, wannabe- hoping that its gonna be , and by then
I’m standing outside on checkered white curb,
with a muddy puddles of water
one-inch from my brown good-will suit.
On my way to the rest of my life
and a dark blue Sudan drives by
splashes rounds and rounds of puddles onto my good-clothes.
Now I’m heading home- telling myself
well’-there’s always tomorrow. 🙂
kindness sister Krissy
A Poet's Vision 
‘my mind might as well be a someday kinda brain’ – i feel you sister!
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lol right 🙂
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Thing is — that doesn’t just happen in the emotional sphere — it happens in the real one, too.
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Other people I suppose too are on a mornin brain and moving fast ✈️ to keep time.😲
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so true- so true
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Beautiful poem.
“I’m standing outside on checkered white curb,
with a muddy puddles of water
one-inch from my brown good-will suit.”
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thank you so kind 🙂
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Well there is always tomorrow 👍👏
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so true lol 🙂
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😊
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