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The Stars Tell Stories
A mother with her son, the boy sat on her knee
Fire ablaze, cracking the drudges of winter away
He peered out the window, eyes to all he could see,
“The stars tell stories,” his mother would say.
Hercules, Orion, Perseus; all heroes alike
All shared a blanket of the night sky as home
Speechless warriors, no leader to order a strike
Doves trapped frozen along the highest dome.
A boy and his mother; a queen with his prince,
She told him the sky watched his adventures all
The queen has gone to live in the sky since,
She’d told him that’s where the fallen go to fall.
The boy grows to be a man, now afraid of the stars
He’d not gone on adventures aside from in his mind
With each day, the walls turn more and more into bars,
His childlike joy becoming harder and harder to find.
The king, so unlike the queen, kept the boy inside
His cruelty matched her kindness, intensity to hold,
Had taken a bar and to the prince’s hands, he tied
He shouted and pleaded, so long his blood turned cold
The prince had long since become prisoner, trapped,
He begged the stars to help, but they had no arms to grasp
Weariness dragged his bones, his body, it wrapped
His voice rugged and thin, left to only a mere rasp.
There was no prince, no queen, no king, no prison
But there was no mistake, still as real as you and me
The stars still watch, a mother, a father, and a son
The story simply warped, as stories tend to be
The stars tell stories, this is still very true
But the stories get lost, words twisted and turned,
There’s still something ringing through and through,
Something the human mind feels to be yearned.
The boy was not a prince, but still a prisoner
The father was not a king, but still very cruel
The mother was not a queen, but a listener
The stars remained the same, shining like a jewel
Stories have princes, prisoners, kings and queens
The stars tell those stories, but they have no tongue
The tellers, ones that are blessed with the means
Leave the truth buried, the details are left unsung
The stars were there, they know right from wrong
Those with open mouths and loose tongues tell the lies
The stars know where all the pieces should belong
But the people are the ones who believe they are wise.
The prince was left without the queen, his mother,
And, he too, went to where the forever fallen go to rest
Very often, this story is confused with another
The stars now, they are left with only one request
Look to the sky the next time you tell a story of heroes,
Of princes, king, and queens, of sons, fathers, and mothers
In a field, sailing at sea, even out of your familiar windows
Look to the sky, and the mistruths will be left in smothers.
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This was my first attempt at a peom with a rhyming scheme. I didn't really know where I was going with it as I was writing it but I think it turned out pretty decent.