Waiting for Tomorrow

Here lies me, in the hours before wee,

staring, stirring, thinking, thanking,

what of He, what of she,

unfazed, depraved, near-crazed, yet amazed.

A new dawn awaits,

as with every wasted day,

over and over we're a step too late,

another day, another day, another day, another day.

Is there nothing else that makes me gay?

And yet so much for senseless sorrow?

So, what's left for today?

We just wait for tomorrow.