i am the moon.
small and insignificant,
almost pointless,
almost being the keyword.
people say i light the night like the stars do,
even though i am a floating chunk of rock.
floating chunks of rock do not illuminate,
no.
floating chunks of rock are illuminated,
but only by the stars.
i reflect your light on to the world at night,
and i am worshipped like the god i am not.
you are the beauty,
burning at temperatures unheard of,
touching every planet in the solar system,
gleaming off of me.
i am not envious of you,
your job is much too important.
and like i said before,
i am almost pointless.
but what is the world without your light,
even when you’re asleep?