Moon Play
Moon Play
Seizing the moon, I wrote poetry on it.
Line by line, with black ink and pure love.
But you never acknowledged my verses.
My love is still unrequited.
You see the scars on the moon?
They are not mere scars,
as philosophers claim.
They are not craters,
as scientists pontificate.
They are the testimony of my love.
They are my heartfelt verses,
disguised as scars and craters.