the moon tipped over
and it spilled out all of
its contents.
an empty bowl
knocked carelessly
like the stars in the sky
were the mess it had made.
just a lovely mess

I was the crescent moon
I had been tipped over.
you knocked me carelessly
and i fell helplessly
all of my contents spilling out of me
revealing to you my galaxies
and i became nothing more than
just
a lovely
mess

You gave me a glass jar
We collected fireflies and put them inside
We admired them every night.
Only the two of us understood
what the flicker of the tiny lights meant.

Only the two of us understood.

One day, we walked down the beach
We walked by a stranger whose eyes
sparkled like our glass jar.
I lost my mind
I dropped our jar
I gave the stranger our fireflies
I thought he was worthy.

You ran away with tears in your eyes
and wounds in your hand
from all the broken pieces of our glass jar.

As I tried catching up, I stepped on broken glass
I hurt myself
I stopped chasing you
I let you go and went after the stranger with the sparkly eyes.

For a moment, I forgot about you and our jar and our fireflies.

One day, it rained.
The stranger left and I felt my wounds fresh again.
I thought about you and our jar and our fireflies.
I missed you.
It hurt and I cried and I promised
not to collect fireflies anymore.

I haven't seen fireflies or sparkly eyes since then.

Six hundred and seventy three days passed
I went back to the ocean and saw the broken pieces of our glass jar
The wounds are now healed but I still miss you
I picked up the pieces and glued them back together
I sent them back to you in a box with a bow
"This is yours", I said
I did not wait for a response.

One day, I saw you holding our empty jar
You were looking at me
I looked back, holding my tears
I moved close and I saw
There were no tears, no pain, no anger in your eyes anymore

I moved closer 'cos I thought I saw your eyes sparkle
I thought about our fireflies
And in that moment I realized

It was you all along
It was not the stranger with the sparkly eyes
It was you
It is you
You are my fireflies.

As we fold each page,
It's important to note,
The past is but a whisper
Of a paragraph already told.

Pen in hand, ink dripping,
We write our future.
Scribe our dreams and hopes,
Upon the paper ledger.

Each struggle, a crease.
Each success, a chapter.

Our birth, the prologue.
The title, the cover.
Our death, the epilogue.
Das ende.

First time I stood On a corner
With a 6 String Yamaha and
A Marine Band Hoerner
Laying Down the Harmony
And bending the Blues.

Playing Some Neil Young
Blowing that Harp and
Singing that Song, it was
A Late March morning
And my fingers were Numb

Cold drizzle kept me Company
People stopped and listened
Tossed some cash in my Case
Headed off out of the Cold in Haste

I broke into the Rolling Stones
"You Cant Always Get What you Want"
I was just trying to get what I need...
Some Awesome long Hairs tossed in bills
Headed down to Taco Grande, got My Fill

Fat Bean Burrito, extra cheese and Onions
Wrapping My fingers around a Paper Cup,
The sweet Black Coffee warmed me up
Nineteen Feels like the King of the World

That Guitar Led to warmer Days, with
With Blushed cheeked Coeds Litin' a Jay
Down on the Lakes edge, Ended up laid

Those Songs and the Guitar Fed me for 2 years
And Much Later People would rush up
And Say "Do you Still play" remembering
the Harmonies Echoed, Between the Buildings
And drifting up the street, I have no Idea Who

Ten Thousand Passed by in the rain and the sun
But the song played on and never was Done
Kinda like Alice"s Resturant, they waited
To see if I remembered it all 20 minutes long.

Of all the Music, the one that paid the best
Was Arlo's Song, Time to strike a Match
And Light the ****....