Poetry · Writing

Moon Man

They can’t spy me from down there. Eyesight is twenty twenty. Squint and you can catch a glimpse. The shooting star of your dreams. They are your dreams.

Moon is made of cheese. Lies we use to tell ourselves. Space cheese would have been an excellent pallet. I’ll settle for this. The mediocre Earth cheese.

The patience to be great. Mediocrity won’t get you far. Maybe to the nice house down the street. Yet never to the stars. Where the greats rest their eyes.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s