Starry NightA Poem by AndrejProIt is a late starry night. Both hands have united together; pointing straight at the sky. Nothing is heard but the singing of the crickets. The starry night gives the nightly owls something to gaze into. Their wide eyes open up to the scattered stars in the night sky that shine so brightly, the hundreds of lights; all illuminating the void of space; wailing and lingering alongside the stale, yellow moon. © 2016 AndrejPro |
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