Tommorow, The Guest Poem by Lucky Sunday

Daughter: Mom, we've got a man by the door
Mother: Oh! The coffee man has finally come
Daughter: No! He figures a complex without a spoor
Mother: Then you had better got glimpse at a gnome

Daughter: Mom, we've got a man by the door
Mother: And I'm expecting the parietal of the Noodler
Daughter: He's neither got a commodity or a gift
Mother: Must have jaywalked, making it to here

Daughter: Mom, we've got a man by the door
Mother: How does he look?
Daughter: He's a whole being with two ors
Mother: Hasn't he got an au fait façade?

Daughter: Mom, he seems to be our anticipation
Mother: You are getting me attuned to a paradox
Daughter: Sure mom, he's got black or white
Mother: I see he has brought an ambient of deliberation

Daughter: His black is better than his white
Mom: How else?
Daughter: And his white better than his black
Mom: I believe he is a salient to face than guess

Daughter: Mom we've still got him by the door
Mom: Let him in
Daughter: He said he waits till time lets him
Mother: Pray he'll get the best for us