Your Poetry Dot Com - Little Star

Met a wrinkled little star;
Past her prime, poor dear by far.
Without make up, without lights;
Waiting for a delayed flight.

Standing there all by herself;
Looked like anybody else.
How confusing it must be;
From fame into obscurity.

No one looked as they walked by her.
Didn’t seem to recognize her.

I excused myself and asked;
Whether she gave autographs.
While she signed I told her of;
All her movies that I loved.

Her flight was called; she had to go.
Looking back she stopped to blow
A goodby kiss and called outloud;
Then disappeared into the crowd.

Doesn’t matter what she lacked;
I’d had a chance to pay her back.
Out the window of my flight;
Into the black and moonless night;

A tiny star shone all alone;
Perhaps to see her safely home.

This poem is Copyright ยฉ softerware