A battered bag
Hung in a tree
Rustles like
The fallen leaves
It's hung up there
An empty sack
Can't go forward
Can't go back
The constellation
Streetlights' glow
The firmament
Displayed below
And in the dark
The passing cars
Describe the arc
Of shooting stars
And someday it may
Finally fall
It might get lucky
So say we all
It's still up there
Just rearranged
Waiting for
The wind to change
A final breath
A shift of air
It's blow away
To God knows where
And someday it may
Finally fall
It might get lucky
So say we all
Writer(s): David Francey
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