When I was both young and naive,
I believed in anything,
And you told me that the twinkling stars,
Were tied up by a string,
That the moment I had joined this earth,
A brand new one was strung,
And every night out there in space,
My sparkling star still hung,
As it rose I'd ask the wise old moon
What star up there is mine,
Guessing at which point of light,
My life had caused to shine,
But nights are not eternal,
Nor naivety or youth,
And the world was quick to tell me,
What I'd thought was not the truth,
It wasn't string that stopped the stars,
From falling from the sky,
And you didn't get to untie yours,
When you kissed this world goodbye,
But I think there's always some things,
That pure knowledge can't explain,
And I'll stick to what you told me,
Though the world thinks me insane,
For it's hard to say what isn't true,
And see clearly which things are,
When on the night you slipped from earth,
I saw a shooting star.
~e.h
