Hope was selling
dreams to the hermits
on the street.
Empty stars filled the carts
paying a price that was too
high.
In debt they left
and came back broke with
butterflies in their dusty pockets
and moon kissed smiles upon their frowns.

Aspiring the rocky dust of crushed stars,
feeling high, feeling new
shooting up, falling down-
A shower of meteors lighting up across the horizon.
Crashing the earth's crust,
addicts for another fix.

Dreamers stealing the stars,
tasting paradise for a little while.