Member Poem

I cry sometimes when seeing stars.
I fear that the stars will disappear, so I quietly beg them
to stay.
For if they cease to exist, life would, too (in a metaphorical sense).
Until today, I never fully realized that stars actually glimmer (aha! A new discovery! Mark your calendars and name something after me!).
I thought that it was a figure of speech that my third grade english teacher urged us to use.
She said that glimmering stars were used to describe something miraculous.
Which the stars are that, a miracle.
They are tiny splashes of white glitter paint
splashed at random
(defentitley from staples, not the dollar store)
Each one with its own personalities (greek gods will forever live on)
and their own clusters. (it's nice to see that high school exists within the star community)
No sequence, no order, no pattern and so we try to make sense of it (introducing constellation maps).

The stars spew themselves all over and collapse in order to be born (I wish I could do this)
I always try to count them all but
everytime I shift my gaze to make another star feel wanted, another one quietly glimmers, begging to be seen.
(I wonder why they want to be seen by someone like me).
And every once in a while, a meteor shoots past the world and waves to everyone that catches sight of it.
Confession: I don't wave back, I only whine and wish
(Bad human)

But still,
what a sight for sore eyes
it is to see the stars
through all the (light) pollution of society.