At camp, we braided lanyards
And spent hours in the pool.
We both dressed and acted differently
From when we were in school.
We played kickball, softball, newcomb
And rehearsed the yearly play,
Plus did arts & crafts and puzzles,
Mostly on a rainy day.
Once or twice throughout the summer
We would take a trip to town
For a movie or for bowling
Or to scarf some ice cream down.
It was low-key, sweet and simple
With no shooting for the moon,
Just a bunch of kids and counselors
‘Til the early afternoon.
What a far cry from what’s offered
Nowadays, but guaranteed
All those fancy bells and whistles
Are much more than campers need.
Don’t be afraid of shooting stars
When they light up the night
But you can wonder what they are
Or wish you may or might
Don’t be afraid of shooting stars
They cannot hurt you, dear
They’re zipping, zooming way too far
To ever reach you here
Don’t be afraid of shooting stars
When you’re shooting for the moon
For even if you miss your mark
You’ll be among them soon.
Man does man have ways when he wants to fight, I pray the race gets renewed by warriors who use energy spikes instead of virus spikes, ... and how is God? I hide him in my chest away from guns, I'm shooting for the moon with bullet sized stars, my friend, and a pen of course, sending you a beg hello, :) and a smile to make your day.
Why does it feel like I'm always stuck between a rock and hard place,
With each and every decision that I face,
Shooting for the moon only to hit a star,
Close friends are few and far,
So if you're reading this and thinking it's about you,
Then there might be a couple things you need to change too,
I don't have a lot of people in my crew,
Not wanting to get treated like I'm used too,
Thinking about every decision that I've made,
Kicking the bad stuff out of my life like I'm spraying glade,
Keeping things so fresh and so clean,
But still good friends are far and in-between,
Just really looking for a shoulder to lean on,
Some one to tell me that it's ok to move on,
With everyday feeling like I'm goin insane,
All these fake friends putting things in my brain,
Saying I'll be here if you ever need me someday,
But when in need they turn around and walk away,
Or act like they didn't see anything I've said,
Reading the messages then marking it unread,
Acting like I didn't know how this would have went,
So I end up erasing it all before it could be sent,
Knowing that theirs only a few people who have my back,
It's always the good friends that I lack...
Shooting for the moon
Will I land among the stars?
Really hope not...
All of this is just for you
My whole world, those eyes of blue
I'm being chased
alarmed, pale faced
and the wings on my back don't fly
and then I'm falling backwards
but I'm landing in the sky
The sky is filled with cats and birds
and metal bottle caps
and the air remains a vacuum
to contain my soundless laughs
I see you floating by me in your
velvet red balloon
and I ask you with my eyeballs
if you're shooting for the moon
You answer with three puffs of smoke
and half a cup of tea
You then begin to dig the clouds
and plant a rainbow tree
The colors can't ignore me
and I beg them for a ride
so they swoop beneath my body
and I slip and slip and slide
I land with bumps and bruises
and a hollow, silent scream
as I wake to see I've cut myself
and bled out all my dreams....
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.