Home » Poems » Susan Christian » The Moon Is Untitled

The Moon Is Untitled

The moon appeared late at night
and a fluorescent lady shown about me
with a soft voice and pale fingers
she asked, 

"What troubles you?"

I could have said several things, because
in reality, I really was quite troubled
But I smiled, and instead of pouring my problems,
I asked her,

"What troubles you?"

Taken back by my response, she stared at her moon, her home
and she gazed passed it, her lips quivering, eyes moistened

"The people here are so complex
unlike anything I've ever witnessed
they are mean, cruel, thrive off pleasure, and yet
their hearts are weak and easily broken
their minds are so transparent, it is barely there
and I worry for them, I worry for you."

Her words were deeply moving, and I stared at her dress
thin and woven in an unearthly satin
lace and buoyant, cleansing material
I asked her,

"Why do you worry for others?

You are beautiful and not among us,
yet your heart breaks for such disgusting things."

She moved beside me, her thin feet stepping
gracefully on the carpet of my room
through the window that opened to the sky
and her hand rested on her knees
and she spoke.

"Child, one's past is never a glass case
one's beauty is often a barrier of ugliness that lies within
love is a stupid, drunken fool, who confuses everything he sees
and I took part in his company.

"Much time ago, when your kind was still developing,
I found a man of such beauty! I was entranced by him.
He had a beautiful heart, a sweetened mind
he was pure and angelic, and yet among you.
I fell in love with him, a forbidden thing
of which I pined for him every night, wishing he could join me
or I could join him

But days passed, as they do on this world,
he become aged, and his heart pined for someone else
jealousy overthrew me, and I hated the one he loved
the one he called dearest, and I sought out to kill her
a dreaded decision, for once I let her fall to her death
this pure, wonderful man could not bear a world without
this mere, pathetic woman
and he took a worthy knife and killed himself

I wept for days, and I saw my love as a fool
stupid and pathetic, wishing for nothing to be the same
until I realized what he was
a man amongst several, several of them
of one I happened to love.

As I am, I laughed
because troubles are temporary, and are meant to be
when I ask those among you every night,

'What troubles you?'

I get the same answers every time.
And as that pure man I loved,
they will fall to their same demise."

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.