No poet
Writes about the Sun,
Opting out to write about
The silver dappled Moon.
“There isn’t romance in the Sun. I just
don’t see it.”
They say,
As they fail to see the Sun for
What it is.

While the romanticized Moon merely grounds us
To our Earth,
Preventing our escape
With its influences on the Waters.

Do you not love something
Simply because it is there too much?
In the same way that you
Only listen to the melody-
But what would music be without its rhythm and harmony?
A life without the unrecognized background
Would be empty.
Do you realize that?

Just like the Sun
I try to provide for you
Your Solace.
I’m the one that
Opened your eyes to the world, and helped you get out and
Spend your life in ways unrivaled.

If you woke up one morning
And the Sun had disappeared,
You would feel the morning
Was to be for mourning.
You would sorely miss
What you once had, only then
When it disappears.
Will I be the same for you?
Must I disappear for you to
realize how much
You should’ve loved me?
And when it’s too late
Will you then realize your love,
Or curse me to dust?

She might be your Moon, yes-
But Will I confine myself to being your unsung hero?


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