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The Moon
To all who will listen
I’ve a story to tell,
Of an innocent girl
And a wishing well.
She thought they were lies,
The stories they told,
Wishes made
By the courageous and bold.
So she threw in her coin
And she wished for the moon,
Then turned to go home
Saying she’d come back soon.
But when she got home
On the steps sat a gift,
And the size of the package
Was too big to lift.
Then she undid the ribbons
And untied the bows,
And opened the box
To see a soft glow.
She lifted the moon
Out of the box,
And thought of the beauty
Of the spring equinox.
The moon wasn’t hers
And it never would be,
So she lifted her hands
And she set the moon free.
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I wrote this poem about myself, but not right now. I wrote it about myself a couple years ago after my dad left for a contract and was gone for almost eight months. I will always remember the way I felt so lonely during that time, and the joy when he came back home.