Three stars flying down so high,
One for each as time flows by,
Crashing towards Earth in blazing glory,
Crossing chores, they do bore me.
A star from the past still shines brightly,
A star from the present is just as sprightly,
I am the star stuck in-between,
Deciphering doubt while crying unseen.
Light years apart, yet still so close,
Whisperers suggest an overdose,
One I knock back daily and nightly,
Prising the puzzle just to spite me.
I write myself into a cage,
Lamenting feelings on a yellowing page,
Waiting in haste for a single sign,
So I know which star is mine.
(I saw an aeroplane tonight that looked like three stars slowly crashing towards the airport...don't worry, I'm almost certain the plane landed safely; another for the Signs by Bloc Party collection).
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