Nocturnal

The man in the moon is just like me
With an argyle sweater sewn to fit
And an excuse on opposite Thursdays
For why he never seems happy
He looks into a crystal ball
To see his future
But it reflects only his past
One we shared oh so long ago
He sees his lack of social skills
And his inability to smile
Then turns away before the rest
Too cliche by far
Yes, he speaks with my voice too
Slightly distorted by distance
The many miles it takes to get here
Multiplied by loss
The man in the moon is just like me
He nods his head when I nod mine
Fancy meeting him here
With his receding hairline
And his penchant for wine
Only white and never red
Matching cufflinks but no suit
He wanders alone up there
Always wishing for my life
That I would gladly trade
To look down from up there
In my argyle sweater
And his crystal ball.

Sam