Stars

He has the heart of a stoner and the brain of a book, He's always searching but never knowing where to look, He looks into fire with a gleam in his eyes, He reaches a hand to touch it and when it burned he dares be surprised, He's searching for happiness he said looking at the sun, But he learnt his lesson last time that playing with fire isn't fun, With bright twinkling eyes he counts the stars, Saying he'll be done soon! and lets time pass, When the sun goes down he looks up at the stars and counts, Their twinkle brining joy to the sky making it look like there's endless amounts, But he'll be done soon! he promised, just a few more to go! But that night he looks up as he has done so, He sees no joy to the blanket of dark, But rather a space void of any light, How he wished he hadn't counted up the stars, And by doing so letting time pass.