I can't put words in your mouth or thoughts in your head.

and though I can always try and fail and hope,
many fallen stars have been wasted on your aura.

Days have passed, and so have nights gone dead.
Every time I see a passing star, I try to fit tears on
a single blade of grass despite its protests, "No."
dancing to an unheard song as if to not

defy such glory and greatness and utter godliness of
ordinary, everyday, and average you, a hero.

No day had gone by without your shear
overly glorified affection for a dog
to have you miss the first domino.

Longingly, I wish I could say it.
Of course everyone needs it.
One day, though, I will dare
knowingly ignoring the sign.