The last star, blinking in the sky,
It's trying so hard, trying not to die.
As the dawn creeps, it stays.
The little star tries not to fade.
The last star, hanging up above,
Tries to shine its brightest
When the sun silences it with its mighty glove of the dawn.
The last star, quickly fading away,
Looks down at the people,
Which scurry about, ignoring her and going about their day.
The last star, quickly losing hope,
Blinks its brightest, letting out the rest of its glow.
The last star, finally done,
Blinks out of existence with a sigh.
Of all the people going about was one,
One who looked up at that last star,
And that made all the difference.
YOU ARE READING
Little booklet of poems
PoetryJust a few poems I've come up with. What else is there to explain?
