Barely visible
incomplete  
as if with starlight
he were to compete
I was admiring
the crescent moon
wondering what made him
so ****** loon
changing shape and size each night
with such faint white
what did he hope to ignite

But upon grave pondering I realised
that In misery in our disguise
our sights preferred
a darker night

In misery in our disguise
we all hid we all hide
true colours true light
from the worlds oblivious eyes

And In misery in our disguise
we all fume we all gloom
so why should be any different
the beautiful crescent moon