Tomorrow

Not today.

I’ll do it tomorrow.

Does this sound familiar?

It’s what kids tell their parents. At least, that’s how it was in my household.

It’s what you tell yourself about school work.

It’s what I told myself about this assignment.

But what does tomorrow mean when it becomes the day after? Next week? Next month?

What does tomorrow mean when it’s used by those in power?

“Yes. Change must be made. It needs to be made today. But first I have this meeting to attend.”

“Your application is currently being taken under consideration.”

“We’ll call you back.”

“Sorry. I can’t make it today? How ‘bout tomorrow?”

How long is too long?

How much time needs to pass before we finally ‘clean the bathroom’ or ‘write that essay’?

I’m here to tell you that too long is anything that isn’t today.

Any action that is being put off for the future just becomes another wasted day.

Because the future will remain the future until you make it become the present.

The here. The now.

    New York, 9/11

The world went into an outrage. America immediately took action.

There was a manhunt for Osama bin Laden for a decade.

    Ferguson, 8/14

Another outcry in the world. Nothing has been done.

Darren Wilson is renowned as a hero in his community.

Paris, 11/15

The whole world stands in solidarity. Colors of the French flag wave proudly in every major city.

No one bothers to think about Lebanon just the day before.

No one bothers to think about the harassment raining from our pores

Aimed at those who preach peace

Yet, who are the ones carrying the guns?

Tomorrow.

Sunday.

Worship in church.

     Preaching love.

The bond runs deep just like the blood connecting each heart,

Connecting each soul as they ascend towards heaven

Forever immortalized in eternity

Forever immortalizing Dylan Roof

Forever immortalizing white fraternity.

Tomorrow.

Monday.

Forget the love preached the previous day.

Outwardly showing the hate.

    Punishing two lovers who are the same.

Two people sharing the same love everyone’s entitled to,

But, unlike everyone around them, they’re the ones who must change.

Tomorrow.

Tuesday.

Your brother needs urgent surgery

But the hospital doors close

Refusing to let in those who are unable to pay.

Instead turning them away

If the dying don’t line the streets, do they still belong?

Out of sight, out of mind, at least that’s what they all say

Tomorrow.

    Wednesday.

Your sister comes home late again

A new coloration, new designs added to her body.

She always wanted to make masterpieces

Now she’s one, she tells herself

You can’t help but wonder if her boyfriend is as gentle as he says he is.

It’s alright, the brush strokes were meant to go that deep.

Tomorrow.

Thursday.

Another co-worker saying “she’s pretty for a black girl”,

“She’s pretty for being fat”.

    You just snicker along, unaware of the demons in her head, in her body.

The demons she has to release into the darkness of her room, the demons that come from society.

Pretty is pretty, who cares if she’s black, who cares if she’s fat?

These double standards permeate our society, bringing it down as we sink deeper in despair.

As more and more demons take hold of us

Slowly killing us before death can claim his fare.

Tomorrow.

Friday.

Another story of the Middle East, “war-torn”

Some different survivor telling his tale

    Being turned around, sent back to that broken home.

As you turn a blind eye,

That’ll be dealt with another day.

Perhaps when the bombs knock on our doors?

Tomorrow

Saturday.

    Attending the weekly party

Forgetting the regrets last Sunday

Drinking to forget the pain of yesterday.

Forcing yourself on that girl.

She will remember forever,

Just like you whenever your father came home drunk day after day.

You could only listen as your mother whispered, “Tomorrow he’ll change, he will without delay.”

We can only listen as our anthem rings, “Let there be change!”

What do we say when no one stands up, no one takes the stage?

Will we continue to wait, to sit,

Or will we just go ahead and admit

That surely, tomorrow will come just as quick?

This poem is about: 
Our world

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