Tommorow’s Dream

I gaze into the eyes of the future.
Today just seems so bleak.
Yesterday I was too meek, to change the reality of my being.
My vision was occupied with lack of precision.
Spring colors floating in the air,
I am nothing but a stare of the universe onto itself.
What I see makes my eyes tear
As the sky peels
I watch the rain fall,
Blood drops from Palestine,
kids naked on channel nine,
while AIDS stills African time.
Initiated into a womanhood sublime,
I realize from this madness I can not hide,
My spirit’s sadness remains untold,
As I switch on my creative soul to paint canvasses of the blues
so maybe tomorrow…
Tomorrow we will change the news.