It is Gone

I stand beside my window,

my hand resting softly on the chilled glass.

it's rather late,and I'm rather weary,

my heart is hanging rather low.

I can't seem to find,

that rather distinctive glow,

the one I watched for hours,

the one that I grew to know.

I can't find it,

up there in the sky,

I hate to think this absence 

is the proof I've been waiting 

to find since last night.

its fire has burned out-

now cold,hard, devoid of light,

just another black mass apart of the darker night,

My eyes are searching the heavens,

for a little bit of a sign,

it really does bother me to think,

that I was the only that saw

that poor little star die. 

The End

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