King of the Moon, by Frank Tavares
If I was sitting on the moon,
I’d see all of our world, floating round and round and round.
And I’d think of how small we all are. But of how big I was.
For I was on the moon, above them all. Looking down, like a king.
I know better than to go through life pointlessly, I have purpose.
I’m the man on the moon. The king of the moon.
And you would all look up and see me, and you would all look up to me, in envy and respect.
And I’d wave back with a big smile. Because I’m a nice king. I would let you continue happily in your lives, leave all the big thinking to me.
Because there was nothing I didn’t know now. I could see every star that existed from up here, every person and every tree.
And then, slowly, the moon would turn, and everything would be black. The earth would be out of site.
And I’d look out into the expanse of nothingness… sparkling with tiny beacons among an infinite ocean of night.
And then I’d go home.
© Copyright 2016 Frank Tavares. All rights reserved.
Short Story / Science Fiction
Poem / Poetry
Poem / Poetry
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