She dreams of the night
When she'll go gliding across the lonely sky
The humans whispering, "A shooting star"
But she is nothing more than a shy star among others competing for the moon
She dreams of the day when humans will look at her in awe
She is a silent star, a silent poet
Hidden in the darkness of her sky filled room, the moonlight beckoning in
A candle casting shadows of a young girl's hand flying across a blank page
Words quickly filling in as her heart writes her desires and dreams
She hides behind her fantasy equipped words
The ink whispering tales of true love and romance
She is a passionate lover of silent words
Infatuated by their unspoken loudness
The poem is a song to her heart, her lips whispering in harmony
She is a photographer capturing the moment in stringing letters
She carries beauty in her heart and onto words on a once dead tree giving it life
In her wildest dreams, she is a shooting star
But in reality, dreams don't always come true
That is why she is always writing, to live her dreams through her words
Her heart aches to be a writer, a poet, a dreamer, a lover
But she is just a shy star.