In The Aesthetic Life
A boy
Could have been a girl
Walked among the moon
Wondering where the stars were
The glittering light above
Teased him so
The planet on which we strive
Never touches reality
The music which we play
Is never really heard
A mere coincidence
That the melody is alive
Within our hearts
And the boy heard this so
Wondering when he would ever arrive home
The biggest mistake he made
Was not listening within
The beauty is often concealed
With an instinct to be braver
To be better
To shoot to the moon
Hoping for the stars
But he asked himself
Does this really matter?
Is there any substance in which we look?
Or is it to outdo the friendly foe?
If everyone is wondering where they are
in this race
Then the individual person
Is a mere story
Frozen in time
Just like the melody
Within our hearts
What a coincidence
We will arrive home one day
Once people stop wondering
When to stop
When to look
Where's the hook?
Every person has a story
Every person will find their way
It takes losing yourself once
In the aesthetic life
Where the race is eternal
To understand the happiness within
And the boy eventually fell off the moon
One starry night
He arrived home
Tucked in his bed
But this time
Not wishing
To be ahead