The Poem

The shooting of stars That fall from the sky The mixing of words To questions of why The beginning of something Makes its demands To help it along As much as it can The dreaming of places That to few have seen The look of sad faces In search of a friend The hopes of tomorrow Shipped off in a box The feeling of sorrow No longer a thought The taste of sweet freedom Given away Steps that are taken The path that is laid More than a notion Of where you have been The poem will live on Well beyond its end