Every star has to shine
and so, must burn itself whole.
Still, she said she was fine.
Slaughtered herself so others could dine
they grew fat, fed on her soul.
Every star has to shine
She drank every bottle of wine
she had. Then, she smashed every bowl.
Still, she said she was fine.
Even though that was a sign
there was a problem or a hole.
Every star has to shine
Should have said “I’ll take care of mine”
But she didn’t. Maybe she thought she could correct. Cajole.
Still, she said she was fine,
until they hollowed her with a mine
and removed her last piece of coal.
Every star has to shine.
Still, she said she was fine.
Picture credit: Hikarinoshita Hikari
😥 I love this poem! It could've been written for me! 😍
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❤️ Poet Laureate? 😘
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So deep and raw. ❤