the poor moon

Is it bad that I pity the moon?

In all its glowing glory

I still have pity

For the moon is covered in craters

And dents

And wounds

That will never heal

While being taunted by that mirage of a beauty

The earth

In all its unhuman humanity

Appearing green and lush

Blue and vast

But it too has wounds

Far deeper than the surface

And the poor moon will never know the truth