People dream of being a scientist
Meanwhile, I wish to be a therapist,
Not for the foolish mortals
But for the myriad-glittering stars;
Thousands of years apart
They're lonely, are they not?
I'd like to listen to their flares,
Be a being that for them cares,
And find a cure for their despairs.
Isn't that absurd?
A longing that this life couldn't approve.
Nov 8, 2024
Nov 8, 2024 at 3:37 AM UTC
People dream of being a scientist
Meanwhile, I wish to be a therapist,
Not for the foolish mortals
But for the myriad-glittering stars;
Thousands of years apart
They're lonely, are they not?
I'd like to listen to their flares,
Be a being that for them cares,
And find a cure for their despairs.
Isn't that absurd?
A longing that this life couldn't approve.
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