Moon

One time, I wished upon a silver moon.         Too bad, the stars all whispered.          And they dimmed as if my words were no longer         relevant.           Too bad, I thought.          I watched as the clouds rolled in, masking the moon's glow.         I just want to be someone, I shouted.          Too bad, the clouds replied.          And the masked glow was like my potential: Radiant, but lurking behind          stagnant.