Words on a blank page,
I can no longer think or dream
of shining among the stars
and cupping the sunset, to drink from my hands
I caught a swirling, pale snowflake
as it melted into a tear before I could appreciate its beauty,
I feel starved of affection
as I watch my mother endure, my father become worn
I touched a flower that blossomed too fast
stoking its beauty with regrets in the morning's soft, silver dew
in my head, I sit at my desk, alone in the night
watching myself write tears in the candle light,
gazing up at the moon, and all the stars I know are up there,
but never within my weary, aching sight.