I stare at the moon, awestruck, mesmerized.

So much it has witnessed through its life.

Centuries of lores, tales untold,

So many secrets under its fold.

The reasons for the slights, the causes to their pains,

A wish to foresee the future, how to make stupendous gains.

The trechery of a friend, The unfaithfulness of a lover.

Yet it shines every night, bright as ever.

A confidante to the lonely, a silent observer.

A keeper of secrets, the lone faithful preserver.

Never too judgemental, never too harsh.

Arms wide open to every traveler across the marsh.

So much to give, so less asked for in return.

Yet, the oft repeated query,

"why does the moon bear so many scars?"