I was told, and told often,
“Oh Dear you’ll have to walk,
Alone.” I shivered, gulped, stumbled,
And thought, “I’ll wave galaxies with
A swing of my hand, and whisper my will.
But how am I supposed to be happy
When I’m alone, atop my magnificent hill?”
My palm in their hands, they said,
“Remember to keep your stars
Quite close.” I let go, the lies, they told
For sometimes your stars are the ones
Keeping your doors closed.