The shining can never become the moon,
it seems they still rotate, each side of this beautiful life called Earth.
I wanted to be the one the stars speak of,
by glazing the lights toward this Earth every time,
but no one cares, as there are millions of stars in the sky,
and only one moon to share the light.

The meaning of it, the moon said hi.
The stars tried hard to brighten the night,
still wondering, is it perfect, or am I high?

Until the star came crashing down,
leaving a beautiful, shiny line.
Everyone cheered at that moment,
but I suppose it was the end of the night.
Everyone made a wish on the shooting star,
like it was a last goodbye.
The star was happy—it never came close,
still wishing everyone the last of their hopes. ❤️