Watery And Washed Out

The Martian sunrise is watery and washed out,
the “Red Planet” a dull and dim color.
The habitat is white and too bright, screens we watch,
to remember forests and oceans and home.
I would dream of the ones I left behind, the family, friends, lovers
but my world had passed on.
The stars seemed like they’d burn away my tears, and I could
believe in a mission, but my heart’s not in it.
In the dark of my pod, such gorgoues stars outside the porthole,
I remember a child I once was, who dreamed.
But angels and magic and love and the world has fallen from me,
Even in my dreams, pieces do not fit.

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