Three days from yesterday is the day past the 'morrow.
As is five days afore late next week.
And every re-lived hour is awash in sorrow
Whilst memories roll slow down my cheek.
If that which was done, would be happening now
And all that has followed been ceased
I would know what I said to be considered most foul
And take steps that offense be decreased
If love were a boulder on a dark stormy shore
Firmly lodged in the side of a cliff
All my thunderous words, rumbling down through it core
Ought not manage to cause such a riff
If I were to be you yet you were long gone
And both of us could not find a way back
Would we recognize the place to which we belong
Before love's crackling heavens turned black?
My extended hands reach toward the cliff where you stood
Time peels backwards the days it had borrowed
Skies clear in a week, shining love as it should
As no storm would follow our tomorrows.
Authors note: Mind maps available to follow this.