Stars (repost)

falling star chissweet

Diamond lights far above and away
speckled skies and toddler rhyming
known well in legend, told in myth
contemplated
gazed at with naked eye
and complex creatures of brass and mirror
can a star still long for recognition?
inside burning bright, is there a secret name
known only to them
that they long to share?
are they lost amid clusters, swirls and tales
of archers and zodiac and animals
wanting to be known
remembered
noted
so that in the falling
which even when accompanied by a wish
still hurts
there may be someone
somewhere in all the nameless skies
who cared enough to count
one less diamond light
and sit in silent sorrow
to mourn for a lost star

*artwork by chissweetart*

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About chimerapoet

I write. I write a lot. A. LOT. There are times I am half blind with a sentence ricocheting off the walls of my stupid, cant be shut off to save my life, brain. I am miserable until I get it down on paper. Punch it up a bit. Usually cross out half of it. And then breathe. Relax. Only to do it all again..... But I just thought that was me. How I am. Not a writer....noooo...not me. Writers are.....writing people. People Who Write. REALLY write. Write things that matter. All grown up very important things. Not.....me. I am just a scribbler of sorts. And I was/am content with that....if it's true, well then....a scribbler am I. Until the thought wormed its way in to my brain (the furtive sneaky bitch) that maybe...just maybe...that is writing. My style. My strange way. But....still writing. So here I am at the dance. Not sure I know any of the moves and the music is entirely mine. But.....only one way to find out. Would you care to join me?
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