Poems about stars.
Stories about Mars.
Words search for a way
to relive the moments
from back in the day.
A soul, innocent and sweet.
Homeless in the middle of a street.
Her life is all about writing,
makes her readers feel like gliding.
Something naturally infrangible,
like a farmer and the smell of hay.
Her letters are way more than just okay.
At night, her thoughts may go reeling,
but her lamp projects stars on the ceiling.
The way that she creates her art.
All I can say is that I think she’s so smart.
The cosmos is her reason to exist.
Ending up on top or in the middle of her list.
Nonetheless, I'm number one in her heart.
She didn’t say goodbye, but forever may depart.
I hope that she knows
that she has touched me too,
all the way to the core.
I can say that I knew her.
Who could ask for more?