when you were young and scared of nothing,
you were enchanted by the moon
and a field of glowing stars that clung
to the ceiling of your room
you drew lines to link their beauty
made constellations of your own
an explorer of the universe
with your warm bed for a throne
and you remember one cold evening
when those stars had lost their light
how you grabbed your favorite sweater
and padded out into the night
and the sight that lay above you
made your tiny heart start reeling
as a sea of glinting starlight danced
on the worlds now darkened ceiling
but though the stars strung high above you
claimed you were part of it all
you couldn't stop their large expense
from making you feel small
for despite all the lines you drew
the constellations stayed the same
and every star you made your own
already had a name
but listen young explorer
for a star's light can be slow
and the ones you see above you
were made a long time ago
and a
YOU ARE READING
The Silent
Poesía⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️ if any of the tagged things are sensitive to read about or makes you feel uncomfortable, please do not read! I'd hate to be the reason you feel either way. *Please feel free to leave feedback and suggestions in the comments, thx...
