Thinking upon the suns up above,
So tiny we call them stars.
We wonder often
What they are
And how
They shine
So bright when
They’re extremely far.
The light soon dies
In a different corner,
But soon there are more.
They have been replaced.
And nothing more,
A blast of light,
And the star is
Already gone.
Wished upon
And cursed upon,
These stars live long, but nay.
Our tiny suns will die one day.
Just as you and me.
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