Without a name; an unseen face
And knowing not your time nor place Tomorrow's Child, though yet unborn, I met you first last Tuesday morn. A wise friend introduced us two, And through his shining point of view I saw a day that would see a day for you, but not for me. Knowing you has changed my thinking, For I never had an inkling That perhaps the things I do Might someday, somehow, threaten you. Tomorrow's Child, my daughter-son, I'm afraid I've just begun To think of you and of your good, Though always having known I should. Begin I will to weight the cost Of what I squander; what is lost I should never forget that you Will someday come to live here too. - Glen Thomas (Interface Carpet Co.)
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