Don’t Stop Here


The windows roll down to say
I did not make it to this distance
To make it
Only this far
“Tread on,
Shooting star,
Tread on,”
I hear the planet
Whisper continuously
Hold me in your arms
As I lay dying
Only then
You will see all my weakness
Pain, sorrow, and
Sharp and stagnant wreckage
None of these will transfer to Heaven,
So I will not live in worry
Give this little wing
A pinch of stardust
And I’ll make it through the night again

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