The Man On the Moon
As a child I was curious of the moon,
How do I get up there, it had to be soon,
It’s ability to float so delicately in the sky,
held up by invisible ropes keeping it up so high,
waiting for it to fall, to run out of light
to run far far away almost out of sight.
But yet it came back day after day,
And month after month,
What could I say,
It liked to keep an eye on me,
That old man on the moon,
For it was my grandad,
Who was taken too soon.
04/06/2019
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