Little does the crockrel know
When all his fellows bellow
And in the majesty of the sky
We all entertain the knowing eye

And wishes on painted stars
are all the tiny children's hearts
And every breathe they whisper fear
Of dreams that will never come my dear

The moons girth fills up the sky
Twisting in her blackened lullibyes
And in her phase tells of woes
A myriad of unlikely heros

The Sun, the stars, a moonlit night
The bounty of the dreamers sight
Glimmer in the child's eyes when they ask "how?"
And vile do I view things now

All alone to sit and hate
the loveliness the world creates

If you [Log In] as a member you can discuss this work with others