we’re running out of earth

and the sun’s not on our side

and i fear the moon turned angry

and vengeful

∗ ∗ ∗

i think I’ve lost my spark

my sense of wonder might be a little tired. or dead.

the birds don’t sing to me like they used to

and the sun seldom shines

on this side of town.

the monsters under my bed no longer faze me

we just stare at each other in the dark

lately everything feels like a performance

and the crowds in stands keep cheering me on

i’m with them as i watch my hollow eyes;

fiery eyes snuffed into glowing embers

and a smile that’s forlorn

but sadly even when the curtains fall

the show must go on

I can’t hold anything; or anyone

with these effete hands

and the puppet master is growing weary

I’ll still be on stage at the curtain call

and in the stands still cheering, come one, come all!

but I’m the only one who knows

that maybe I’ve lost my spark