It's funny. You always think there's going to be a tomorrow. The business man on his way to work sees a rosebush and thinks "Tomorrow, I'll smell the roses. Tomorrow I'll take one to show my wife how much I love her." And suddenly, the tomorrows are gone. And he is sitting in his dingy apartment without the woman he loves. Tomorrow is one of those things, that is just...there. Tomorrow I'll tell the girl of the dreams I love her, tomorrow I'll tell my parents how much they mean to me. Tomorrow, tomorrow... like the faint scent of promise on the wind's sweeping arms.
It won't happen to me. There's another thing you always hear. "Nonsense, the Dark Lord won't touch me," says the doomed man as he leaves his home for the last time. It's always somebody else, until it just--isn't. And you realize that you are the somebody else in so many people's eyes. And that for every person that truly misses you there is somebody thinking Thank God it wasn't me. And there are those people that say they're sorry, but they're really not. They can't be. They rushed through their lives too much to really know you. They always thought there would be that tomorrow to learn about the true you. It never occurs to them that in the end we are all going to the same place. They never realize that life is not simply a race to be won.
A lot of times I wish I had taken that time. That I hadn't had such undying faith in that tomorrow. It always happens to somebody else... Another one of the great lies of life. Sometimes I sit by a rose bush, wondering how many people will walk by it thinking I'll smell it tomorrow, I'll look at it tomorrow. I wonder how many of them will return to see the dirt that has taken the rose's place. And how many of them will think I'm going to change. No more tomorrows. It happens today. And yet stay exactly the same. It's safer that way, not as many risks... You can't live life without risks. I'm glad I took those risks. One less thing to wonder about for eternity. Sometimes I wonder if I would still be alive if I weren't, no, wasn't so daring. But that's in the past. And I'm glad I took those risks.
Tomorrow, tomorrow. . . . I blow my name into the wind. Hoping that somebody will hear it and remember the boy who ran out of tomorrows.
Cedric, Cedric...
.
.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cedric Diggory, etc.
A/N: I tried to take the advice of my reviewers (or more specifically, reviewer, you rock!!) and make this writing a bit more clear, along with using paragraphs. Anybody who reads this, please review! Constructive criticism appreciated. (Just not flames.)
It won't happen to me. There's another thing you always hear. "Nonsense, the Dark Lord won't touch me," says the doomed man as he leaves his home for the last time. It's always somebody else, until it just--isn't. And you realize that you are the somebody else in so many people's eyes. And that for every person that truly misses you there is somebody thinking Thank God it wasn't me. And there are those people that say they're sorry, but they're really not. They can't be. They rushed through their lives too much to really know you. They always thought there would be that tomorrow to learn about the true you. It never occurs to them that in the end we are all going to the same place. They never realize that life is not simply a race to be won.
A lot of times I wish I had taken that time. That I hadn't had such undying faith in that tomorrow. It always happens to somebody else... Another one of the great lies of life. Sometimes I sit by a rose bush, wondering how many people will walk by it thinking I'll smell it tomorrow, I'll look at it tomorrow. I wonder how many of them will return to see the dirt that has taken the rose's place. And how many of them will think I'm going to change. No more tomorrows. It happens today. And yet stay exactly the same. It's safer that way, not as many risks... You can't live life without risks. I'm glad I took those risks. One less thing to wonder about for eternity. Sometimes I wonder if I would still be alive if I weren't, no, wasn't so daring. But that's in the past. And I'm glad I took those risks.
Tomorrow, tomorrow. . . . I blow my name into the wind. Hoping that somebody will hear it and remember the boy who ran out of tomorrows.
Cedric, Cedric...
.
.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cedric Diggory, etc.
A/N: I tried to take the advice of my reviewers (or more specifically, reviewer, you rock!!) and make this writing a bit more clear, along with using paragraphs. Anybody who reads this, please review! Constructive criticism appreciated. (Just not flames.)