The sun took my eyes and put them on the moon

The face on the moon is a mask,
a caricature,
a serial killer,
no different than mine:
it always looks sad, alone,
surprised to find itself
so far out there
on its own.

Categories: poetry

Tags: , , , , , ,

2 replies

  1. I’m not sure if I should be depressed or enlightened. Great post.


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