Star Trails

I wish a wish upon a wishing
star at mid-night hoping the
harps of honey it drips of will
drown me in their drunkenness,
but hope is a harlot, of sorts
the kind which takes too much
for what is asked to please,
and mind you, much like them,
they’ve been disregarded by
the society of what they offer,
and though I tell of hope and
such, it’s only true that for it,
I’ve become a harlot, of sorts,
offering to let me please you,
and in return, I only ask for a
bit more of hope for that lady
and that little boy on the street
who seem to have lost the
twinkle in their eyes. Yes, I
beg of you to lend me your
star trails; I beg of you to let me
bring upon the reality of dreams
to one person, at least, so when
I am to wish upon a wishing
star one last time, I dare not
feel like I had no choice.


5 thoughts on “Star Trails

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