A PIECE OF THE MOON
Our wandering eyes tend to land
on the glitter and gold scattered about.
We waver and fall, only to miss,
Too many blessings for us to count.
Those special items held deep within
That mean more than a cent or two,
Held dear like a Christmas memory
Or a prayer we’d pray to come true.
In those fleeting moments,
When falling stars may fall,
May we reconsider and remember,
The most important things of all.
Blissful wishing, often forgetting,
We tend to blink too soon
For deep inside, tucked away
We’ve already been given a piece of the moon.
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