Love. Lucency. Lassitude.

32. The moon and me

I like to think that I can talk to the moon,
Whenever it shines,
For it can tell me stories,
Every time its heart breaks like mine.

But then I realise
That it doesn't fall so soon,
For if you look carefully,
There's something terribly sad about the moon.

So when you see it,
And you wonder why it cries,
Remember that it holds
More pain than you'll ever realise.

Because just like me
And all those lovers out there,
It loved someone
Who didn't even care.

And I don't know who it is,
I don't believe it's the sun, the wolves or the sea,
But I know that it cries a little,
Every time it sees a broken hearted lover like you or me.
~*~