we stand together:

stars in this clear night.

gleaming and glistening, joyous.

but morn comes:

we burn less and less bright.

we worry, whats in store for us?

theyre pulled away by:

the light of a new day.

but im the last shooting star that night.

i fall so so fast:

like a broken-winged bird.

their happy faces are my last sight.

The future. Does that need an explanation. It fills me with dread the unkown, the uncertain, the worry I could end up on the streets or with so much on my plate that I brake again. It doesn't keep me up at night but it haunts my ever decision and keeps bringing back the nagging what if...

The future I hate it.