The night sky, full with the moon and stars
The night sky, a wondrous work of art
Reminds us of what makes God laugh hard
A Galaxy bound without bars
In the dark, dark clouds, stars sparkle and dazzle
The moon, in its time, startles like Marvel
Such perfect harmony in the sky
bonds us together like day and night
A perfect order we often neglect.
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From her window, the widow stares with tears,
crying out her heart for fear of bears.
asking when doves will bring her hopes,
feeling too close to her glowing gloves,
labouring without support or love,
fighting off tough, morphed demons thereof,
she screams without voice, “I know my worth!”
She knows her worth, or that’s what she thought
A helpless woman wishing on the stars.
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Man, the monstrous man, trusts on his guts
His beastly grunt stuns and haunts warlords
But the widow fears not his physique
So, with magic, he hypes his mystique
Like Hitler, he must conquer haute whores
He props himself “the Great Mao Zedong’s”
A world filled with cheats and hypocrites
feels nothing, not pity, for her creed
The night sky, her hope and comfort.
—————————————————
Wishing on stars in the dark night sky,
the widow found lights shinning so bright
it lighted up her gloom and ignited
an inner strength she thought had vented
The radiant glow, glory, and flattery
made her vain with a streak of snobbery,
“I know my worth, and it’s what I thought!”
Pain, grief, and loneliness that fade not
were her smoldering fire of liberty
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