There are stars on the wall
or maybe I’m seeing things.
There are starts on my shoes as well,
but the white part on them has
turned brown from the dust.
The lines on my hands are deep,
but I thought I was too young
to show age, but I guess I wrong.
Black t-shirt reflects the past,
but I don’t want to go back there.

Wait – there really are starts
on the wall and stars on my shoes.
But it hurts to looks at them
because when I do,
I think of
you.