what a waste of the moon.

she hangs there brightly,

excitedly laughing,

waiting for you and i to kiss.

i look at her with an apologetic smile looking nervously

at the door to open. 

i don’t want to hurt her.

i really wish you could see the beam of love in her face.

what a waste of the fragile moon.

who like me hangs there in the empty stage of the night, broken.

wishing you would someday beam for me.