The future has been a guest in my home
for a while now.
Sometimes I ask it to turn down the music,
through the door.
Sometimes I spend the day outside,
just so I don’t run into it,
to get a bit of a break.
It’s my home.
Why don’t I ask it to leave?
I can’t, because I care.
The future has nowhere else to stay.
And sometimes it’s nice.
I know I sound tired now, but
sometimes we get together and play,
and I remember why I offered it to stay
in the first place:
we fill this house