Stars were out that night The Moon was set for Fairy's dance And some kid wished he was a knight. Wish upon a Star… Was that the night of chance, For him to get his own magic tale And his own house made of rance? Wish upon a Star… He got his dress, he got his horse But he wanted more; He wanted to own the Stars, To have command over others' course. (He wanted all the wishes upon the stars to be under his command) He tried to beat the Stars down But his sword was too short So he cried, cried out loud: 'Stars please come down, with thy proper noun!' Stars came to his lawn, Gave him a cuddle And dissapered. The kid smiled and realized That sword is too short with a reason; So that people don't beat down each other's wishes… So that people don't destroy each other's hopes… No Hope = No Earth No Earth = Death (no hope = human + a sword long enough to beat down the stars = death) Stop the wars. Stop the Death The Death. The Death. The Death. The Death. The War.
Hey Borut this is great, I think you lose it towards the end but it's an important message told in a childlike and beautiful manner. Can't believe no-one else has commented.... Skinny
Hey, thank you for your comment. I was just trying to imitate the poet I'm reading at the moment by the end, and it was my first try to do so, that's why it's not too good towards the end, I think. But practice makes perfect they say. So thankies for your nice comment. Love, Borut
Hhee, that sounded funny in some way, thanks. Swiss army knives are very useful anyway, for various stuff outdoors. Thanks for your comment.
we should all go outdoors, with our swiss army knives, avoid the city... I know I'm a happy camper, above whom the stars beat, when i'm out there. cheers!
