Stupid Moon
under a stupid moon...
sentimental poets write
and unrealistic lovers swoon
it all seems a bit trite
beneath your halcyonic gaze
waxing, waning, full again, and new
charted, your every mood and phase
half, quarter, harvest, and blue
you know nothing of love
stupid moon, with your idiot's grin
tugging at tides 'til god knows when
spanning the sky, over, and again
poor lonely moon...
could i have confused I, with you?
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