I haven’t the slightest idea why they don’t like you.
A fair complexition with mini-craters scattered all around your cheeks. Your eyes round with energy and a voice as loud as your shine. You stand tall through the night, wearing the heat of a fire’s orangey-flame.
No, I really don’t understand why they don’t like you.
I see hope in your expression and a wish of sweet dreams floating in that puff of brown atop your head. You seem nice, I’m sure you are. You treat me nice and say hi to me as the Sun sets for dusk.
Oh dear Moon,
Why do they hate you so?
You’re loud in the night sky, that I know; but you’re not aggressive unless told to be so. You’re peaceful, and quiet when you want. Even when a meteor attacks, you’d be calm.
Oh dear Moon,
I haven’t even a clue why the world despises you...
But to me you’re a friend,
A nice one too.
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