The Apocalypses Of The Constellation Poem by pedro moshood

When I was very young I dreamed of having a Unicon
Even though mother can't buy a bicycle seat.
I dreamed of being a wing horse and cluster in constellation,
Although our local heroes can weed hectare
Of field,
I explore the archive of astrologer in a corner
Where echo is buried.
II
I saw many starlings dropping out of their gravity
Like a cluster of grapes from the Vitis tree.
I saw various stars buried behind the lunar eclipse
And failed to lead the Maggie along their journey
III
Although stars we are, our food naturally comes from earth,
And as whales easily adopt to the sea
We survived through drinking from dirty stream
Thus we strived to revive our refracting light from shadow birth
IV
My parents were born to till the earth to feed:
They are well known pitching their spades on the field
And they can identify many crops according to season.
Though a star from a low birth, I think I have a different Choice to make without dimension to my horizon
As I couldn't identify various crops seasons and their different names.
My folks, if you still doubt my past, come and I will show you crystals buried among the rubbles.