That star light, that star bright, I wish that star was me at night.
The story goes they had followed, then maybe I won’t feel so hollowed.
I would be loved with a simple gaze, then maybe my life wouldn’t be in such a haze.
I would be greeted with a smile, then maybe I wouldn’t be in denial.
As they lay back in a calming rest, then maybe I wouldn’t be so depressed.
In the sky with all those stars I would be at home, then maybe I wouldn’t feel so a lone.
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Comments about this poem (then maybe by just mme )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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