In the deep dark dead of night
There’s charcoal colored skies
That suffocates the light, the stars, and fireflies
The atmosphere is crude
In an egocentric mood
An agitator, mischief maker
With something more to prove
Such as a smile lit up in the sky
Or a fluorescent crescent moon
To see and sit back and behold
This panoramic view
Because after all, there’s not much more
You can or cannot do