I sit by the window,
all alone in the dark,
looking at the twinkling stars.
It's a cold crisp night and
the black sky is filled with
tiny spots of light.
I shiver and I snuggle deeper into the blanket
I've wrapped myself in.
A star dies and falls from the sky.
I make a wish.
Always the same one.
How many more stars have to die?
How many more wishes will it take?
I'm so afraid the sky will run out
of stars to wish upon.
That would mean no more hope.
Hope is all I have.
Tears overflow my eyes and
slowly start running down my cheeks.
I blink but I never stop gazing at the sky,
too afraid to miss a shooting star