The man on the moon.

A Poem by dukovan

I was the moon,
who was leaving so soon.
You, a tune lost,
in the buzzing of bloom.

You carried me through,
the phase of my youth.
I swear I'm a man now.
If not, I'll be soon.

Eight months and a list,
of things, that I haven't learned yet.

Thirty days and I'm back,
complete and cut off at the neck.

You threw up my head,
and I looked down at you.
You needed to squint,
as if I had moved.

The sun came again,
and blinded a truth.
That, I'm still right here
and you've always been too.

Eight months and the jist,
of things I already know.

Of all your faces I missed,
that got lost in our home.

The lust in the sun,
melted our roof.
We got lost in the sun,
but found the map we had drew.

Winter is here.
A shallow orbit, December.
I'll be in your window,
for more time to remember.

So as fast as I'm back,
is as soon as I'm gone.
So If I'm ever away,
it wont be for long.