she asked why i cry so often,
everything seemed well.
i choked on a missing answer
and climbed onto a plated roof.
my shaking hand pointed
up to a nearly black sky.
i replied, i do not cry for you
or for me. i cry for the stars
that are hidden behind city lights.
the stars that will never bee seen.
the stars who hold so much
beauty and life, but we do not
posses the ability to cherish
the natural embers so we fill
the city with artifical sunshine
to protect us from the predicted
dangers of the moon and the stars.

*i cry for the stars that are hidden behind the city lights.