Sheds

Mine eyes turn only towards the future, the consequences of yesterday and the implications of today forgotten, I turn, eyes and mind open, that I might engineer that golden tomorrow, build it with bricks mortared in soul and blood and stone of effort and toil, that the today of tomorrow might be built of gold and steel and not the corrugated iron that one refuses to escape from. I turn, knowing that the works of today are the spoils of tomorrow, and that thought I cannot escape the tasks of today by way of road, I can escape them by way of labor - and building better my tomorrow. Though the possibility exists always that my tomorrow may not be golden, corrugated iron it will not be.