My Cardboard Balcony

Tomorrow by Belinda Roddie Tomorrow, vote like your safety depends on it - your happiness depends on it - your family and friends depend on it - your very life depends on it. Because they do. And they always will. And the sun may rise and set without your vote, but the world it attempts to light up will be too dark to sustain. Tomorrow, vote like, if you don't, everything will fall apart. Because - who knows - it just might.

I'd love to stay in Ireland - maybe they could make me an ambassador there. I'd wear freshly pressed suits and pretend I understood Gaelic. I'd learn all the old songs and play the fiddle or the uilleann pipes. I'd drink a pint or two of thirteen as soon as the sun began to set. And then I'd finally listen to everybody's stories - how they got here, where they'd like to do, and how they'd like to shake the paralysis from their heavy limbs.