A speck of glitter, torn from night, Not quite a star, not pure of light. More like dust, that fell askew, And dreamed a dream, unwanted, new. Launched toward blue, a silent tear, Not blessed, not loved, not held so dear. Just tumbling down, a wisp so frail, With stardust eyes and a whispered wail. It lands on Earth, a sticky thing, No angel wings, no bells to sing. A tiny hand, that grasps for air, A cosmic error, waiting there. And in its gaze, a distant gleam, A memory of a star-dust dream. But Earth will claim it, bone and blood, Forgotten child in the mud.