Moon Suicide


The moon hung, a noose ’round her neck

Awaiting death,

that arrived once a month

But until then

forced to wait, reflecting on her reflection on the calm sea

an obscure image of her own beauty,

Unable to see herself clearly,

Thinking herself unpretty.

The noose cut her neck, chunks of moonlight falling off 

And there--a blood red moon, yet still dim and soft

compared to the sun.

There she hung-

Forever thinking she was unpretty, compared to the sun.

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This Poems Story

The moon compares her dim glow to the sun, thinking she can never compete with the sun's beauty.