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Mad at the Moon



Light not of your core.

You are a dusty old

satellite that pulls the

waters by your gravity,

not your excellence.

My faith in your power

is something I never

speak of anymore

Don’t cry for me orb

I have moved onto

a plan to accept your

indifference to my

suffering and to howl

when you appear

Stupid plan of course

but in the absence of

Divine intervention a phase

I have to go through

Maybe randomness is next

to godliness, or on top.

My innocence is gone

but each night I say

goodnight dear moon.

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