He called her his sun,

but he never looked directly at her.

Only squinted in frustration

on days she shined a little too brightly,

and complained on days she hid.

He called her his sun,

but only bothered to look at her

when their time together was setting.

"She's beautiful."

She's gone.

He called her his moon,

and gazed at her lovingly.

Her shine thrilled him

on days she felt whole

and on days she didn't.

He called her his moon,

and waited patiently for her

to reflect the light and love he gave.

He understood that some days

are easier to love than others.

Art by Sketchii Studio

#poetry #moon #sun #moonchild