This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.

It's always today, but it's never tomorrow;
It's never a given, it's always a borrow.
There is always a moment when you say, "Not right now..."
And to make it forever wasn't worth it, somehow.

It's always a minute, or a day, sometimes hours;
Then you pick up your bags and lay funeral flowers.
It's always for now, whilst you've got time to kill;
It is never forever, it is always "until".

Until you've had enough; until I've annoyed you;
Until I'm in your way; until you see me true.
I have known from the start that you'll soon have your fill,
For it's never forever; it is always "until".

Why the struggle of striving and doing my best?
Why the bother of sharing when it's just laid to rest?
Why the trouble of trying and aching to fit?
Why the bother of dead hope and feeling like shit?

People come and they go and continue to prod,
And then others just leave, not a word or a nod.
If I could, I would murder this undying will
That still hopes for forever, not immortal "until".

This poem only available on Stories Space. If you are reading it elsewhere, it has been stolen.