The light of day was swallowed by night
She would have never noticed
Wouldn't have believed you if you tried to tell her
She never saw that she was staring at the moon instead of the sun
Dark and light were one in the same now
Rain or sun didn't matter anymore
She laid out there for hours at a time
In the greenest of grasses
Staring at the blank sky
As if it held the answers
To questions she had never thought to ask
So she laid there
Listening to things
Things that no one else hears
Like the silence within all of the screams,
The silence within her own screams
As she screamed at the moon
Asking him
When it would be her time to become a star.
YOU ARE READING
Pretentious Poems
PoetryA poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language -W.H Auden
