The sentiment is just
The appeal is clear
You know. I know. It needs to be better.
Somehow. Somewhere. An improved measure.
Tomorrow will be better.
Noble is its call.
Great in demand is its fall.
Not for the sentiment’s fault
But to the lack of recognition in its vault
The better laces itself to a swifter belt
That ties it down without a gown donned and felt
Better claims the day
Leaving its predecessors nothing but pits of clay
Trying to mold a different reality
Crying for a difference, no matter, swiftly and sadly
We hope we cope. We hang ourselves by that rope.
Believing better is the dope
That will one day release us to be a better in this sea, all the while now gave us its wow and we missed it looking for it in tomorrow’s lie.
Until the next ❤️ beat ~.~.~
