YESTERDAYS Yesterdays litter the streets of our dreams New once but now out of style Where do they go when the new day arrives Are they just trash in some pile Are they all crumpled and tattered and worn Or are they tomorrows as yet to be born Do yesterdays die and then brown and decay Tattered like garments threadbare Do they wait for the wind to just blow them away Randomly tossed here and there Are they life's refuse devoid of all worth Destined to scatter to ends of the earth Are yesterdays gone to be heard from no more Like lovers who parted in pain Do all our todays have this waiting in store Exiled to a hopeless domain Are they the junkyard of where we have been Unwanted memories of life's toil and sin Perhaps they are not all so useless and spent They may hold much more than we know Yesterdays may not be quite so content To gracefully bow out and go Perhaps they are really our lives' phoenix bird They may hold a secret that we haven't heard They may help to fertilize our future dreams Like plowed under crops in a farm Yesterdays may sew the cloth and the seams That clothe out the next day with charm It may be that yesterday's pain and distress Will be that which brings us tomorrow's success |