The Moon is Human

The moon understands what it means
To be human
Its imperfections,
Craters,
Are open to our criticism.

And yet the wolves howl
At its beauty and strength.

The wolf understands what it means
To be left out
To belong in a pack,
Then abandoned,
Having to carry their own weight.

And yet the moon shines
To make the trip less lonesome.

Is life about finding the wolf
That howls the loudest
And the longest?

Is life about finding the moon
That shines the brightest
And the farthest?

The human understands what it means
To be hurt by words
Their labels,
Isolation,
Keeps them divided.

And yet the friend supports
When feet seem disfunctional.

The friend understands what it means
To be used
To put all their faith in someone
Then have it torn to pieces
While they scramble to pick up the shreds that remain.

And yet the human assists
To show that others tred the same dangerous waters.

Is it words that get the best of people?
To let a pattern of sound
Force one to fall onto their knees to tremble?

Is it a lack of trust that defeats the friend?
To be betrayed in such a way
That makes eye contact a death sentence?

The moon understands what it means
to be broken more than once
But also knows how to make the best of things
And proves it to the nonbelievers.

The moon knows what it means to be human
And it taught me how to not let you
Get the best of me.