The silly stars and the subtle sky.
Always changing.
Rearranging.

How I long to go up there.
To their busy city
Called the sky.

Stars shooting around like cars.
The blinking light
Of the traffic signals.

The vast
Yet condensed road
Called space.

When the Sun comes out
The city sleeps
And a new sky awakens.

Is this sky better than the first?
Is it any more beautiful?
Or busy?

Написан сей стих мадам по имени Катерина. Остальное не так и важно. (да, такая вот банальщина))