In The Centre of the Universe.

Once around the stars

I weave,

Gathering my soul,

The magic of the heavens.

I call for the song

That is the stars

Enchanted by love

And given to hope.

I find the rose

That’s buried deep

And pull out its thorns,

To nurture it.

It’s rare and fine,

Amongst the blossoms,

Red like blood,

Surrounded in pink.

I close my eyes,

And look for the sun,

The light,

Is a shadow north.

I smell the taste of tomorrow,

And listen for today,

Their song very sweet,

Very sorrowful.

And I ask,

What is the world looking for,

A place to put me,

A voice to replace mine?

I cannot be replaced,

I cannot be exchange,

I am a human,

As perfect as the next.

I am a rarity,

Of utter perfectness,

Cherishing my fullness,

My thinness.

I can’t be changed.

I am a creation.

With my arms and legs,

My eyes and hair.

I weave around the stars,

Casting my spell,

Looking for my place,

Right where it should be,

In the centre of the universe.

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