The Solar System

I spin on an axis

That defines my path, 

Following the enforced rules of gravity and physics,

Even though I desperately try to lean 

On my own accord.

But I'm constantly being pulled

Into another direction

Predestined for me. 

I get dizzy following this same orbit

Around the hot flames that are deemed as stars,

Who are willing to disintegrate

Anything daring to shadow its luminescent light. 

Why can't I ever shine as brightly as them?

But I am not the only one,

Foolish enough to focus their attention on the stars,

Centering their lives around this glimmer and glamour.

Even though each of us have different paths,

With some more tightly bound to the command of the stars,

We are all part of the same system,

Waiting until we too, can explode into this glorious phenomena,

Ending our current existence. 

At times the light will center on my surface,

Exposing my flaws for all to see,

While my soul yearns for the cover of darkness.

The sun is too bright and burns any pair of eyes

Who dare to stare,

And burning those who bask in its presence

For far too long. 

I enjoy the presence of the moon,

With imperfections on every inch

Of its rough, rocky exterior,

Bearing scars of its every collision

With those around it.

At least the moon is closer to shoot for,

And creates a curtain of pitch black darkness,

Making all blind to our physical differences.

There is a myth of savings done by the daytime,

Where we can reverse time to the past,

Allowing for an extra hour

Of our fantasy slumber,

Delaying the intensity of the light,

Even if its penetrating rays are inevitable.

I'll just wait impatiently for that annoying, ticking hand,

To lead to an ending to another day,

Of this repeating numerical, spinning existence,

To lead to the re-appearance of the dear moon,

Even if the clock gears are jammed.