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Submitted on
March 4


68 (who?)

there was a boy i once knew.

He used to teach me about the universe—
how planets are actually small atoms that
make up galaxies, and how the stars we see
are really just particles that make up infinity.
He taught me the forgotten history behind the stars,
and how they were so much more
than just flaming orbs of gas.

"The stars were once worlds,"
he would tell me.
"They once were planets,
and now that's all they have left to be."


there was a boy i once knew,

and he used to teach me about Fiddler's Green
and Spaceship Earth. He told me what to say
to a person who's dying, and why astrologists
are the people to go to when you can't find your way.

"The astrologists were once mages,"
he would tell me, his wings
itching to be free.
"They once were lovers,
and now that's all they have left to be."


He used to talk for hours about what
he imagined it felt like to be reincarnated,
and why you feel most alive when you're
almost dead. He used to scream about how
painful it was to have cancer, and used to cry
about how much more excruciating it was to say goodbye
to the only person
you ever loved.

There was a boy I once knew,
and I used to sit beside his
metallic bed
waiting for him
to wake up.

"Life was once a miracle."
he would tell me,
blue veins bursting
through his angelic skin.
"I once was a warrior,
and now that's all I have left to be."


there was a boy i once knew,

and he used to tell me
how much he loved me.

"I will see you again one day,"
he would say, with his
eyes wide open and wet.

"Maybe in heaven,
maybe in hell,
maybe in Fiddler's Green."


He was a mage
and a warrior
and an astrologist.

He was a soldier,
a lover,
a victim of cancer.


Adam was a boy I once knew
and one day I will see him again.
not in heaven
not in hell
not in Fiddler's Green.

I will meet him where the moon meets
the ocean, and where dreams will put their arms
around the children we would've had
as we sit across from each other and give thanks
at the kitchen table.

I will see him in another life,
in another million years
after we have been reincarnated
a thousand times, and after a thousand
lifetimes when our paths will
happen to cross again.

I will see him where the stars become worlds,
and the astrologists become mages,
and where lives will be miracles.

I will see him again one day,
and that is all that I ask.


Adam was a boy I once loved,
and now that's all he has left to be.

thank you to those of you who actually took the time to read this. :)


original title: fiddler's green

fiddler's green: a legendary supposed afterlife, where there is perpetual mirth, a fiddle that never stops playing, and dancers who never tire.


—and so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers' Green.


Add a Comment:
19andMugsy Featured By Owner Aug 11, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
wow, you have a beautiful way with words, you're an amazing story teller :)
You're an inspiration! Poet, keep up the great writing!    
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2014
Aww, thank you so much! :) I really appreciate you taking the time to read and comment, it means a lot to me :huggle:
19andMugsy Featured By Owner Aug 14, 2014  Hobbyist Writer
You're very welcome! 
Anka-aram Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2014
This is a wonderful poem -so touching and well written.
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Aug 10, 2014
Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! :)
PINK-ROSE14 Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2014  Professional Photographer
This is exquisite! Beautiful imagery and I also really love the line breaks and the italics. 
Never stop writing. I'm sure you'll be published someday soon. (If not already).

-Goes and writes poetry because now I'm inspired.-  


Heartbreaking, beautiful, but you did a very good job. Beautifully executed. 

- Erin 
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2014
Thank you so much! :heart: This is actually my favorite work (even if it is the least popular ^^;) and I'm very proud of it. :) Took me forever to write, haha :faint:

This poem is actually inspired by a real boy. His name was Jason, and he died from neuroblastoma (cancer) when he was ten. I was inspired to write this when his mother was talking one day about how he had made so many plans for his life. He wanted to become a scientist and get married... he had names picked out for his children. His mother was devastated, she was crying for weeks. Every time I read this poem in particular I get such a heavy feeling in my chest... 

Thank you so much for taking the time to read it! It means a lot to me. All these poems have a special meaning behind them, so when somebody takes the time to comment it just makes me so happy. :huggle:

I really do appreciate it. :heart:
PINK-ROSE14 Featured By Owner Apr 4, 2014  Professional Photographer
You're welcome! :heart: I can see why. : ) And it doesn't matter if it's the least popular, it's still beautiful. 

Oh gosh, that's incredibly sad. I had a hunch (who ever uses the word hunch, I read way too many Nancy Drew Mysteries when I was younger...) that the poem was inspired by a real life experience. That's horrible. If I was a mother I would be incredibly sad and crying or weeks as well. 

You're welcome. : ) 
That's the best way to write poetry. I admire you for that. 
The majority of my poems were inspired by portraits that I found on DA. I almost never write without a photo to inspire me. That's because I'm afraid the poems will turn out too depressing and emotional. 

:D No problem. :heart:
TheAstrologist Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2014
Thank you. :happycry:

And yeah, it is. :( I feel so bad for the mother.

And same here, I'm exactly the same. If you'd look at my favorites, those are all artworks that give me inspiration on my writing.... I can't write without a photo or story, as well.

But yeah, I'm so glad you enjoyed it. :) It means a lot to me. :hug:

-Elizabeth :heart:
PINK-ROSE14 Featured By Owner Apr 5, 2014  Professional Photographer
You're welcome. : )

Oh yeah, nothing can compare to the grief of loosing a child. When I was nine a four year old got hit by a car on my street. She died. Her mother had finally let her go play with her older brother (who was seven) in the street. Her mother was watching them, but she got a phone call in the house. A car came and the brother wasn't paying attention... 
Her name was Dorthy. 

What are we, twins? 
Yes, I really cannot write without a good photograph. And if I try, it comes out as complete shit. Though, I firmly believe that as a writer, you will always have your shit days. You just have to write through it and eventually you'll hit something good. : ) My high school English teacher taught us that. 

You're welcome, again. ^^ :huggle:

-Erin :heart: 
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