rose gold in black marble hues,
like the sun in cloud-casted blues.
she is held as a precious gem
more valuable than the rarest of jewels.
she is the sun you gaze up with ardor;
her orange glow brews in your noons.
and when night interlaces with day
she turns to the beaconing moon.
i am no more than a star celestial—
only fractions of day do i appear.
and even so as twilight falls,
pollution blends with the atmosphere.
proficient main lead, front row seat
she is a prominent role in your play
yet in the background i stand once more
in the analogy of night and day.
Sep 28, 2020
Sep 28, 2020 at 1:20 AM UTC
rose gold in black marble hues,
like the sun in cloud-casted blues.
she is held as a precious gem
more valuable than the rarest of jewels.
she is the sun you gaze up with ardor;
her orange glow brews in your noons.
and when night interlaces with day
she turns to the beaconing moon.
i am no more than a star celestial—
only fractions of day do i appear.
and even so as twilight falls,
pollution blends with the atmosphere.
proficient main lead, front row seat
she is a prominent role in your play
yet in the background i stand once more
in the analogy of night and day.
i dug up this poem from 2017???
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