The World is Like the Moon

A repaired planet looks like the moon. Where humans would die Where war would lose With a deep black sky And a hindering light The lids of your eyes And the sun, unviewably bright. I’m sad like a crater. I made a crater on the moon. I’m bad because I made a crater. Forever, it shall loom. Even in a healed Earth, even on the moon. The remains, craters of tears, remind us why we departed so soon. I heard there was a mountain, I heard there was a peak Where trees used to grow That purified the air which we speak I heard there was a mountain I heard it had a name But that’s all that I heard Before I made what I made. A tree full of flowers Watered with honey A tree full of smiles Shriveled as Earth watered it with money And hatred and crime and pain and tears And kids kicked out of homes for their loves and fears And wars and bombs and guns and fire And a blazing explosion of souls, like a discordant choir I killed that poor tree Killed it with an ax I killed the air I breathe It practically asked. I’m empty Like the dark sky of the moon My eyelids are heavy Like the gravity of my gloom I sit and I wonder I wonder what if? If we didn’t repair it with a sonic boom If our Earth weren’t so broken If it wasn’t the moon