22nd March 2010

In the lightest of days,
The sky is warmer than the air surrounding it,
I still try to aim high,
I still try to shoot for the stars.
The meaning he holds to me is smaller than I will have for them,
The meaning she holds for me makes me smile more than they have ever made me,
Between them I’m the smallest,
Possibly the youngest.
Somehow I look up to them, the same way I look up to the stars.
It will never hold much more than what it is now,
And I will never smile more than they might cry.
They hold me, with distance,
I take it in my stride with
Stars falling with
Comets dashing -
Beyond what is dark.