Moon

Last night I watched the Man in the Moon
play tricks on the unsuspecting Sun.
The Sun, half awake, he did turn around,
but found that the sounds he had heard were from none.

Of course, in his wisdom, he already assumed-
that the only one up at this time was the Moon.
For why would anything else waste their sleep
in pulling the leg of a gaseous ball of heat?

But the Man wasn't finished in playing his game,
he turned to the Sun, beckoning to play.
But the Sun declined Man, saying it was time to sleep,
and that tricks on the old were cowardly feats.

So the Man floated solemnly, thinking of fun,
he could only come out when the day had been done.
And for this, he had no friends,
Nobody to play,
And for this, he was lonely,
Much to his dismay.

And I think to myself,
maybe he'd have more fun
if he didn't start by playing tricks
on the Sun.

You might see him at night, pondering on whether
being mischievous would make him feel better.

But none of his antics would have been a problem
if Phobos and Deimos had just called 'im