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Looking up
See the moon
Pale friend
Braving afternoon
Single polka dot
On blue silk
Looks down on me
Colour of milk
Lone trespasser
In daytime sky
We are alike
Moon and I
Less impressive
Out of place
Crude stitchwork
Amongst fine lace
Yet even he
Reflects sunlight
Fulfilling purpose
In the night
Hiding behind
Vapouros clouds
Leaves me wondering
Mind a shroud
Did God create
Me for a purpose?
Was I made
Just some surplus?
If not
Why am I queer?
Spirit wonders
Why am I here?
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