Mar 2018
We all have something to praise,
A god, a person, an object.
He always told me he praised the sun.
Soon,
I became his sun.
I never understood when he said Iām the light of his life.
Because to me,
He was the sun.
He brought warmth to everyone he passed.
And then I looked inside him, and was shocked.
The sun that had always shone so bright was dim and collapsing in on itself.
It felt like looking in a mirror.
At that moment,
I finally understood,
That I truly am his sun,
And he is mine.
A god, a person, an object.
He always told me he praised the sun.
Soon,
I became his sun.
I never understood when he said Iām the light of his life.
Because to me,
He was the sun.
He brought warmth to everyone he passed.
And then I looked inside him, and was shocked.
The sun that had always shone so bright was dim and collapsing in on itself.
It felt like looking in a mirror.
At that moment,
I finally understood,
That I truly am his sun,
And he is mine.
I know it's pretty bad, but it's my first poem and it's about someone that means a lot to me. I'm kind of embarrassed about publishing it, nut I thought I'd give it a go.
