Tomorrow is a different me
I see, but cannot touch
He looks at me, so wistfully
I want to say so much
How did it happen, we had dreams
Had hopes we thought would last
The future, along common themes
Is rooted in the past
Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2784721-Fields--meadows-and-nature-prompts 3. Across the fields of yesterday, He sometimes comes to me A little lad just back from play— The boy I used to be. He looks at me so wistfully When once he’s crept within;3. It is as if he hoped to see The man I might have been. James C. Dobson, Life on the Edge
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