In The Aesthetic Life

A boy Could have been a girl Walked among the moon Wondering where the stars were The glittering light above Teased him so The planet on which we strive Never touches reality The music which we play Is never really heard A mere coincidence That the melody is alive Within our hearts And the boy heard this so Wondering when he would ever arrive home The biggest mistake he made Was not listening within The beauty is often concealed With an instinct to be braver To be better To shoot to the moon Hoping for the stars But he asked himself Does this really matter? Is there any substance in which we look? Or is it to outdo the friendly foe? If everyone is wondering where they are in this race Then the individual person Is a mere story Frozen in time Just like the melody Within our hearts What a coincidence We will arrive home one day Once people stop wondering When to stop When to look Where's the hook? Every person has a story Every person will find their way It takes losing yourself once In the aesthetic life Where the race is eternal To understand the happiness within And the boy eventually fell off the moon One starry night He arrived home Tucked in his bed But this time Not wishing To be ahead