Bejeweled, the peacock in her feathery glory,
Enchants each passerby to tell her story.
Her way with words, allures them all,
She gleams with pride; she stands tall.

A woodpecker, wears its crimson crown,
Its artistry turns down a frown.
Builds his home, upon a log,
Persists through rain or fog.

Peacock teaches the woodpecker its wicked game,
Gives the woodpecker a taste of fame.
Woodpecker works day and night,
Threatens the peacock, gives her a fright.

The woodpecker, praised for his newfound grace,
Notices the peacock, disdain on her face.
He asks her softly  , the cause of her dismay,
Her voice cold and dead, begins to say.

“Your craft is weak, yet you think it’s great?
You still have time, it’s not to late.
If I see it again, it'll drive me mad,
Oh, honey! Its the truth, aren’t they all bad?”

Woodpecker stunned, as she keeps saying more,
Feels his crown fall on the floor.
With care for his pride,
He ponders and delves into a stride.

He says-
“Insecurity buried deep—that’s fine.
But why must you extinguish your friends’ shine.”
Speaking less but saying more,
He flies off to a better shore.

the sun envys the moon and stars
he wishes he could have something like they do
but he cant
the moon and stars have this bond
one thats not like the others
its like they were drawn together
and they cant move away
the stars was scared
but the moon promises to keep her safe
to protect her for all of eternity
the sun was jealous of this
he wants someone to look out for him
the way the moon does for the stars
nothing can touch the sun though
they would simply burn.

you glow in the night like silver satin
and i watch in utmost admiration while
stroking my skin of rusted steel; how
i wish i could live in your skin