he told me he wanted to be an astronaut
A/N: This is another poem about one of the boys I did in "if then i am his observor (a stranger)." It's number 2, I think.
The reason I am back
to writing about him, he who wants to reach the sky,
is simply this:
He is of a different mold.
he was taken from the memory of cyberspace
and changed until he was of
pale sunlight and worn out light bulbs.
I also think
he was once part of a great expanse
of salt sea air and falling silver tinsel stars.
What reasons are those?
Well. We take what we are given-
and he has been given much-
and change our talents until like heated metal
they melt into a shape of our dreams.
Someone took him
and stretched him until
he became white and vast and endless.
That is why he wants to go into space.
Not because he likes the idea of nothing
nor because planets speak to him like Shakespearian poetry,
but because it matches the space inside him.
I think that's why.
Who knows. I may be wrong.
He likes space just as I like poetry.
He is a poet of stars and heavenly globes
just as I am an astronaut of words and expressions.
Simply this, and nothing more.
A/N: Yay! Happy day. I actually like this poem, I think it's different from the number 2 poem, but it carries somewhat of the same tone. Reviews please?