Here I stand
With a star in my hand,
It’s faded and worn
Weary, tired and torn,
Still in its beautiful yellow
A deep intense mellow,
Lying so gently on my palm,
In the grace of its calm.
So I’ll forgive you for thinking,
When you saw it sinking,
That this star was my own
But it is simply not known,
That mine it was not –
Though it seems all forgot.
It was but there for me
On a moment happy and free,
Moment shared, moment given
All forgotten, all forgiven.
aintnocureforlove 