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Andrew Randall

One Little Bright Star

Updated: Feb 11, 2022

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune’

ensure we form an at risk veneer.

The wounds from the darts then slice our defense

when two hearts are loitering near.


At times these incendiary exchanges,

full of zeal inequitably paired,

flutter on till one sees the madness,

and the prizes get unevenly shared.


My desire to be real, once connived against,

meant my candor was shredded and burned.

Still nothing for me was required of you,

or hopes for what may fall in return.


But a persuasive case I could not produce

to sway one as compelling as you.

I have spent so much trying to find that space

I doubt its contentions are still true.


I’ve not the talent to unravel the complex,

nor explain what I think to be right.

I see now I am just a damaged vessel,

half-empty, and stunned by the light.


I’ll bide my thoughts if we pass undercover,

we’ll share filters instead of hope,

and when I see those eyes, and tectonic smile,

I’ll tie a knot to the end of my rope.


We’ll all progress, hang on to our hearts,

smile fondly on paths we once trod,

and our minds that healed each other so

will retain their duty to some lesser god.


The sun’s now setting on the smallest of days,

dawn will come when the night’s appeased.

I’ll take from it all one little bright star,

and keep it in close where nobody sees.


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