I am not who I want to be

Shocka!
Suprise.
We’re living two lives, in the time of one,
At the cost of three, it seems.
‘Waiting for the smell of the summer ‘gain,
Makes me fall in love again.’
Waiting, indeed.
For this life to phase out,
To actualize the us that is potentially wonderful,
But just as dull, we’re promised.
Don’t buy in!
Tomorrow’s better.
Not better than today,
But it’s better.
Than not having tomorrow.
Than the past.
Than ‘them’ and their course.
Take arms!
Defend what is yours.
It has come to this:
A bloody rebellion from the inside, fighting the outside.
Fighting a civil war,
And now a full scale melee war,
Each faction fighting for self-preservation,
Each faction taking pre-emptive measures to ensure such.
Attack first so we may not defend!
The motto of evil men indeed.
‘We promise this is the right thing to do.
We swear, we’ve got numbers.
We’ve got the greatest minds working for years!
This is what it has come down to.
We must act now.
Trust us.’
Lies.
Lies and make-up.
What good are numbers in a crusade of souls and uncertainty?
Not much, that’s for certain.
But wait.
It’s morning already?
Huh.
I don’t feel like fighting,
Not today.
Think I’ll wash ashore some distant land,
And write it a love letter.
Spill my tears instead of blood.
I almost,
Coulda,
Shoulda,
Woulda done it all.
Until tomorrow, then, go in peace.
But tomorrow, Hah,
What bloody wars will be associated with tomorrow, indeed.