No one in truth has ever lived by the day
But we talk as if the Sun always shows the way
We and our souls are by nature nocturnal
Because character and tears are seldom diurnal
The Sun is nosy, and so it tries to reveal
Every waking thought that a soul can conceal
But the irony is that at night they come out
Because they know no one is looking about
We all can relate to that eternal satellite
For when we look upon it, all seems right
It is like us:barren, scarred and far
So much unlike that proud, pesky star
It reflects our sorrow, it reflects our pain
And it even gets misty like our eyes before it rains
Yet its tears pool in a Sea of Tranquility
And display it all for the galaxy to see
So the Sun might be the King and it might wear a crown
But not a single truth have its rays ever found
For its persistence cannot comprehend the tides of persona
That can only be illuminated by the moon's corona

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem