So many stars.
So many constant twinkles in the night sky.
Each unattainable, yet seemingly right there within our grasp.
Each holding a wish made by someone at some point in time.
How is there room for them all?
Don't the constellations get crowded?
We put a man on the moon, so let's enlarge the sky
And give all those patterns some breathing room.
But not all stars are good.
Some lie.
Some aren't really there - burned out long before
But their light remains to attract wishes
That they have no intentions of fufilling.
Some aren't really stars at all, but whole planets.
But with our inexperienced eyes,
And from this insignificant world,
We can't tell.
So there must be a great many planets
Holding wishes.
I just hope that it works the same way
That it does with stars.
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