A snippet of life turned into poetry.
You said:
“That was the biggest shooting star I’ve ever seen”
I said:
“You should hurry and make a wish”
You closed your eyes
Facing toward the sky
And then asked I,
“What did you wish for?”
You said:
“I wished that she’d return”
But your mind, which keeps track
Of her financial lack,
Whispered: “She might not come back”
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