Poetry2ponder's Blog

The sun is going down.

Silently, it swoops down upon the horizon,

As I sit in my chair without the lights on.

And I fear I won’t see the sun again.

I fear I’m falling slowly in outer-space.

And I feel the gravity tug on my face.

Don’t know whether I should smile or frown,

Don’t know whether I’m going up or down. 

And as I float past Pluto, I feel like throwing up.

But, somehow, I’m now walking on the moon,

And I know I’m growing up.