She makes the most elaborate plans
Things sown to harvest in the future, far or near
Goals undone recycled in over and over
She can afford failure as long as she has tomorrow
She takes a step and stops for a rest
She thinks the road ahead is long
Best not weary oneself in the commence
Folly oh what folly displayed!!!

No breath guarantees the next
A tornado might just sweep through the plans and dreams
Turning them to smiters, mush
The rest of your life might be but a few days
Tomorrow might be your last tomorrow
What if today is the last shot you get???

~RC