The moon ate my heart. My vision was tainted. I staggered forward, uncertain. I heard something disappear. I think— I am myself. I taste the hole in my chest. The moon’s smile mocks me. I know, I know I am not myself— I am merely a whisper Of a husked heartbeat. Rebecca Beaver, 13Tenafly, NJ
Poetry-Nighttime
THE MOON
The moon The little moon The lonely uncolorful moon The only friend of earth The moon of its only kind There the moon stand by her only little self The moon The Earth’s only friend The grey boring moon The old rusty moon Andy Wu, 10Shanghai, China
THE MOON
The moon The little moon The lonely uncolorful moon The only friend of earth The moon of its only kind There the moon stand by her only little self The moon The Earth’s only friend The grey boring moon The old rusty moon Andy Wu, 10Shanghai, China
