Trying to make it happen
is only making it dampen.
The fulfilled look of love has drained away
left with only a look of disdain.
You should have known you could only push so far
before you tore from heaven the star.
You hung it there with such care
but ripped it down without as much as one last stare.
Climb back up and reposition the moon
and please, please do it soon.
Before what was so preciously made
is just left to wither away.