What the moon is made out of...
Sit down my dear,
And I'll tell you a story,
about what the moon is made of.
It's made out of our dreams,
that hangs precariously in the sky,
from the hook of reality.
And if it were to slip,
the dreams would come crashing down,
and be buried in resentment in anger.
It is made out of babies innocence,
That keeps the children young.
It doesn't stay long,
but we hold onto it,
wishing for it, to become ourselves.
It's made out of the tears of the heartbroken,
The salty brine swirling up in a mist
towards the vast ocean we call the sky.
It makes it's way to an empty bowl,
and fills it up with milky color,
to shine and light the way for young lovers
to follow their doom.
It's made of the laughter that we cry,
when someone delights us,
mirth that echos up into the vast unknown,
To keep shadows away.
Sometimes they do not stay,
and shadows cross the moon,
But laughter will always be there,
as long as the Sun is there.
Up on the moon.
Sit down my dear,
And I'll tell you a story,
about what the moon is made of.
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