Tomorrow is yesterday

Happiness left me, like the daughter of the cancer victim,
Or the buzzing bee who lost its sting.
Life
It’s such an eternal thing; even when there’s sorrow,
It is never forsaken, or lost
It cannot be found in the ground, where all lost items,
Are usually captured.
It cannot be stolen, and even through grotesque massacre,
Another soul, never curses acquisition.

Yet, alike a vampire as it finally realizes immortality,
I tire easily, I wearily wish for a clock to stop
So I can contemplate without being an illusion;
For what is the present?
It does not have a beginning or an end,
This is written, the past seconds, and my thoughts
Are the past thoughts, like death of a person,
In a fast forward style.

I wish not to conclude misery,
As this poem is printed, labeled and delivered
In an abundance of so-called depression,
I know life is of change, and it will continue like it always has
Yet tomorrow will be tattooed with simple smiles,
And tomorrow is yesterday.