This is the poem I wrote originally describing how I felt when I first set foot on the moon, if I was Neil Armstrong.
First step on the moon, assuming it’s the afternoon, I feel like I’m on cement without peppermint. Doesn't feel nice looks like a big mice or a big giant rocky rock, feels like a stonepile, broken bricks, unshaped, terraformed in black and grey style, colourless like the 50s television. the stars and the earth are in my view of vision. Float like a butterfly is what I'm doing, I’m a bee orbiting the flower.
Poet,Litia
