Shooting stars fizzle out,
like old fireworks.
They promise so much hope
but end in a puff of smoke.
No big light show,
just faded embers
falling like snow.
Shooting stars disappear
before tired eyes,
like the trickle of a tear cried.
They announce themselves with pride
but then only a tickle comes forth.
Not a flow of rain flowing downwards.
Shooting stars,
we could only ever dream of.
Dream on, sleep until it’s all gone
because shooting stars
don't stay around for long.
They leave as quickly as they arrive,
just stardust littering a midnight sky.
Shooting stars,
like a blade cutting the night.
Blink and you will miss their light
as they tear through the atmosphere.
Burning bright, then they trail away
just a tale to be talked of,
one lonely day.
Thanks for reading
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