Dangers of the Moon

I look up at the Moon, full of wonder how bright and pretty. her face imperfect and speckled with pockmarks and I hope to myself, that one day I can be as imperfectly perfect as she. that hope is misplaced. no one is as perfect as she, really how can we? yes we've had things thrown at us, and had it leave marks, but, she grows darker with each and every impact and one day she will be gone. for me, to put hope in the Moon, as amazing as she is, is to put hope in a fly that lives but two days in comparison to the universe, she is but a fly. false hope is a danger, not just to you or me but to those around us as well, for if the false hope brings us down it brings them down with us, she is beautiful, bright, and a wonderful sight, but a danger to us all, nonetheless. inspired by wishing to the moon instead of the stars about who my biological mother would be, having the image I built up of her shattered by reality.