They told me that I had to like the sun.
It was those bright beams though that made my head pound.
How could I like the sun if we did not get along?
I had to hide away the fact that I was settling for the smaller orbs.
I had to let them believe I did not feel my thoughts in the night.
I had to hide away my love for the constellation skies.
Only those stars knew my darkest and brightest figures.
Only those stars knew who I was when no one forced me.
The sun is a solid mass that keeps us surviving.
It is the stars though that dance about to the midnight melody.
It is the stars that make me feel alive.
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