Moon and Me by Magna Ademoroti Sarah Adejoke.
The moon?
Beautiful.
That’s what I thought.
The sun?
Too bright—
That’s what I thought.
Leaves trembling,
Whispers of revolt
Against their mothers—
Yes, I saw that too.
The wet floor
Soaked my feet;
My shoes gasped
For breath.
Was I jealous of the stars?
They stay with the moon—
Not always,
But often.
Still, the moon came first,
Before the stars.
And I—
I want to be that star,
Twinkling in the dark,
Safe beneath the moon’s shadow.
But it aches,
Watching the moon
Shine with so many.
Can’t there be
Just one star
For the moon?
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