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I have always wanted to be nocturnal,
To Live by the light of the moon.
There’s something about the stars – they’re eternal.
I pray the sun sets soon.
I’m looking up into the sky
And I am thinking, how can it be this big?
Why is there so much of it?
How do we all fit?
I am thinking all these things
A poem in which I am growing.
A poem in which I am a tree,
And I am both appreciated and undervalued.
Her pockets are never empty.
She says pockets are for running.
So she keeps them full,
Stuffs universes into them,
And says it is just the essentials.
My little brother loves superheroes.
He wants to change the world,
get the keys to the city and save the girl.
I watch the films with him all the time,
There’s something of the rich tea biscuits dipped
in a sugary brew,
From the inside it warms you up.
Something of the feeling ever so welcome
We are staring at the moon
and I think for a second we become
Screaming at the stars,
growling at the idea
that this night might end