“The moon knows my secrets.” Isabella proclaimed.
Her smile was bright and unashamed.
“That’s just made up stories!” Little Johnny laughed.
Isabella frowned–he thought she was daft!
In the quiet of night, she slipped out from under the covers.
Climbing to the rooftops, knowing it’ll upset her mother.
So she crept ever so quietly, not making a single sound.
Once on the the roof she nestled down,
Isabella gazed up at the moon with a frown.
“Little Johnny thinks me daft!” She cried, “Oh moon! He is just the worst!”
Isabella hugged her knees tight, “He might just put me in a hearse!”
She cried and cried, the moon just listened.
Lifting her head, her tears glistened.
She thanked the moon for hearing her fury,
Scurrying back down to her room with any worries.
Isabella awoke to clank and clatter.
She wondered, “Whatever is the matter?”
The streets bustled with shouts of clamor.
She rushed out the door to see the sight,
There lies Little Johnny, face full of fright.
Struck by horse and carriage, he died on sight.
Isabella stood shocked as ever,
Only it was the moon who knew better.
Catching a glimmer of light,
the moon disappeared just slight.
To tell the moon your secrets,
you must pay a price.
What will be your sacrifice?
-C.R. Phoenix-
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