Tiny lives he had trapped,
inside a big old jam jar.
They twirled and fluttered,
fire sparks of light afar.

His prize possession,
A starry piece of the night,
that brought him lots of joy
and gave off so much light.

Alas, they danced less,
a faint light they did make.
So, in a last act of love,
his jar he had to break.

And off they all did fly,
up into the darkest night.
He turned to his eyes up
and noticed all the light.

So consumed to keep,
a few stars of light,
he had failed to notice
the heavens shining bright.