Poem about stars.

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As you'll soon realize, i'm not a poet. I write a lot, sometimes I deliberately make it rhyme but it's not something I consider myself anyway adept at doing, it's for my own enjoyment. But in keeping with somewhat of a pledge to myself, through these forums i'm trying to sharpen my ability to become more fluent in sharing things I enjoy (in this case, stars and writing) and present them less as a monologue and more as something people might like to hear (or read as the case may be). Doing this has made me feel very vulnerable, so if this gets replies and I don't respond right away it's because i'm nervously avoiding the email message that says "Topic reply notification - Poem about stars". Though I promise to anyone who takes the time to reply that i'll respond eventually, and to everyone else, I thank you for reading.


I live my life as facts and numbers,
Greet my friends with slips and blunders,
Hope for peace, prepared for war,
Never certain to what i'm fighting for.

I tell the truth but hide my scars,
Speak of no love but my love for stars,
The darkness that cannot hide the light,
They gift upon the endless night.

A distance we cannot understand,
I could reach and grasp them in my hand,
Take their warmth and make it mine,
To show the world that I can shine.

Yet I retract my arms and leave them be,
They belong to us so we all can see,
That the day will pass, the sun will set,
But there is light to be seen even on the wrong planet.

I really enjoyed it! After reading it, I could picture a narrative through the whole piece.

Entering it, I picture myself standing on a balcony at midnight, with my hands on the banisters and my eyes staring at my feet, thinking about my earlier day: the facts learned, the blunders, the conflicts. Then, I look up at the stars, and all my troubles evaporate for a brief moment as I admire their beauty, smiling. I remember that all people, aspies and NTs, can see and love the stars, and I feel a sense of unity with everyone and nature. All my troubles remain invisible for the duration of the night as I leave the balcony and slip into bed.

I don't have much experience writing poems (I prefer writing prose) so I can't give any comments on rhyme scheme, meter, style, etc.

The only silly thing that caught me up was that, at the end, I ended up reading "wrong planet" as "wrong planette".

I thought that it was really a great poem! The last line didn't seem to really flow with the rest of it though, a bit long, that's my only criticism. You say you're not a poet, but I'd say it's much better than that of many self-proclaimed "poets" I've seen recently