Wish Upon A Star Poem by Duncan Standard

Tonight is a night just like any other,
Dark,
Lonely,
Cold,
But the stars seem to disagree.
Each twinkle,
Ever slight flicker of light they sent out before our past lives were future events,
Every explosion of gas I am getting to see,
All a part of this once in a lifetime event,
Something that only those of us looking up, and to the slight left for me, at this exact moment...
Only we see it.
It will never happen again.
Once.
In.
All.
Lifetimes.
Yet I can't help to think,
How none of this Star's work,
The light it shared,
The way it manipulated a combination of gasses and heat to bring it's system of revolving planetary objects a glimmer of light before burning itself literally to death,
None of this was probably given a thought during its lifespan.
The curse of the artist,
To achieve a fame upon death that your time alive never could seem to give you.
This beautiful ball of gas,
To which we whisper and scream,
Our hopes,
Dreams,
Secrets,
Wishes...
Never to think that it had died long before we met.
In former lives,
We saw the same sky,
Same star,
Same burnt out ball of hydrogen and lack of self preservation.
Dead...
It was dead long before anyone could see it's glory.
Long before anyone even gave it a second thought.
I pause for a moment to do something I hadn't in years,
I stop,
Close my eyes,
And listen in disbelief as I hear myself speak into the quite winter air;
Star light,
Star bright,
Most beautiful star I see tonight.
I wish I may,
I wish I might,
Wish the most important wish of all my life.
May someone,
Someday,
Look towards the trail of this burning heart,
flickering soul,
brightly lit smirk,
twinkling eyes.
May they see,
Not what I saw,
Nor what I hoped to achieve,
All the while knowing I would fail once more;
That instead they would see what I was.
See how truly bright I was,
When I killed myself.
With my pathetic,
Lonely,
Unnoticed attempt,
To light up the face of love.
A lighthouse,
Built specifically to guide her safely past life's rocks and storms.
Safely to the arms of the one she loves.
As I watch,
Burning still,
If for no reason other than to continue to light the path they walk.
Where they are hand in hand,
Her with her love.
Until my light no longer flickers,
The point when I have nothing left to give.
My heart,
Its fire having burnt clear and beautifully.
Fiercely.
Brightly.
Solely.
For the one who will hopefully never realize,
She's stuck,
For the first time since her sparks helped to ignite this flame;
Stuck...
Relying...
Solely...
Upon...
Her once neglected bedside lamp.