Tomorrow feels like a shining bell,
a secret the hours can’t help but tell.
My door will knock, my heart will race,
a sleek new iPhone takes its place.
Wrapped in white, a box of dreams,
a glassy future with silver seams.
Light as air, it waits for me,
a pocket star, my galaxy.
I count the hours, each one slow,
like footsteps pacing, row by row.
But soon it lands, my joy takes flight,
tomorrow’s gift will glow so bright.
In my hands, the future sings,
the world condensed in tiny wings.
Oh, how I wait, I can’t sit still—
tomorrow comes, and with it, thrill.