Turned to Lead

My legs have turned to lead
And my heart, it seems, is wooden;
My dreams are now all dead
And I really shouldn’t
Try to star-wish anymore
Now that the moon is hid,
Though that’s what night-time’s for,
For hopes whispered amid
The constellations faint
And the inky blue forever--
Shown too little and too late,
You were never mine to treasure.






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