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The World is Like the Moon
A repaired planet looks like the moon.
Where humans would die
Where war would lose
With a deep black sky
And a hindering light
The lids of your eyes
And the sun, unviewably bright.
I’m sad like a crater.
I made a crater on the moon.
I’m bad because I made a crater.
Forever, it shall loom.
Even in a healed Earth, even on the moon.
The remains, craters of tears, remind us why we departed so soon.
I heard there was a mountain, I heard there was a peak
Where trees used to grow
That purified the air which we speak
I heard there was a mountain
I heard it had a name
But that’s all that I heard
Before I made what I made.
A tree full of flowers
Watered with honey
A tree full of smiles
Shriveled as Earth watered it with money
And hatred and crime and pain and tears
And kids kicked out of homes for their loves and fears
And wars and bombs and guns and fire
And a blazing explosion of souls, like a discordant choir
I killed that poor tree
Killed it with an ax
I killed the air I breathe
It practically asked.
I’m empty
Like the dark sky of the moon
My eyelids are heavy
Like the gravity of my gloom
I sit and I wonder
I wonder what if?
If we didn’t repair it with a sonic boom
If our Earth weren’t so broken
If it wasn’t the moon
Copyright ©
Luna Schwartz
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