Like a pumpkin on Halloween, carve me open.
You will fear the hollowness of my insides.
Previous trick-or-treaters, in their too high of spirits, have long ago scooped out what made me tick.
My pulse used to pound louder than a heart knocking on the door of another’s soul,
Hoping that someone welcoming waited on the other side.
Begging for entry.
As they dressed in their costumes, hiding their true identity,
They stumbled upon my motionless being.
They mistook me for the large, misshapen fruit and I did not make it a hard feat.
With my constant state of lifelessness and lack of expression, I am a lyric with no beat.
Lost amongst the stars, wandering far.
Hiding next to sons that always knew how to shine brighter than I did.
Camouflaged, so that you would not notice that I too could light up the sky.
Too often,
I would rather be overlooked,
Than to have my illumination come with an expiration date.
Too often.