Stars, shining yellow and bright,
Two usual combinations.
Showing the way at the dark of night,
Lighting up little spaces.
What holds them up there?
Gravity? Oh, Bogus!
Making a path for people everywhere,
Stealing many-a-glance.
What are they made of?
Gases? Oh, Bogus!
An endless, burning matchstick in space?
Or a flying ball of fire?
Stars, shining yellow and bright,
Why are they up there?
To show the way at the dark of night,
Lighting up little spaces.
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