Jagrut Gupta

21 sept 2005
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To the moon

You're nights of sitting up and restlessness, and something made of moondust
Maybe you don't speak out all the times you should've,
But the silence inside you is screaming,

And you said you've been wishing on stars for wishes you've been asking for since you were a child,
I don't think you see it, that you're a star yourself

Silver and cold like metal, you  burn like a fire
You are bright and warm, sharp and soft, a perfect contradiction
The light that glows in a firefly

You are black and blue, but sometimes you're white like a ghost,
Are you falling, or flying?
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