Tomorrow

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He was going to be all that a mortal should be
  Tomorrow.
No one should be kinder or braver than he
  Tomorrow.
A friend who was troubled and weary he knew,
Who'd be glad of a lift and who needed it, too;
On him he would call and see what he could do
  Tomorrow.

Each morning he stacked up the letters he'd write
  Tomorrow.
And thought of the folks he would fill with delight
  Tomorrow.
It was too bad, indeed, he was busy today,
And hadn't a minute to stop on his way;
More time he would have to give others, he'd say
  Tomorrow.

The greatest of workers this man would have been
  Tomorrow.
The world would have known him, had he ever seen
  Tomorrow.
But the fact is he died and he faded from view,
And all that he left here when living was through
Was a mountain of things he intended to do
  Tomorrow.

© Edgar Albert Guest