Have you ever wondered,
how the stars came to be?
That's all I can think about in the summer,
but that's just me.
The stars, how odd.
How odd they are,
to be so big but look so small,
and from Earth, be so far.
The stars, I wonder,
do they ever end?
Does the sky ever end,
of the twinkles that come from them like they're your friend?
I guess all I can say about the stars,
is that there will never be a star that's a fraud.
Because every little star is so unique, it cannot be duplicated.
The stars, how odd.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem