Two rivers

The prophecy borne out
by a faith that is
torn out
when the City boys shout out
the markets are down.
 
The future was here
and
now it has gone
and gone
and gone
and it goes on and on,
one minute or a moment
for torment,
either way
tomorrow which never comes
is not another day,
 
conclusions I come too
after looking through
that which looks into me.
 
She was a free radical,
 
sometimes
life is mystical and shoots
you full of magic.
 
when two rivers converge
merge into one
the future that wasn’t
lives on.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.