Tucked beneath our pillows,
under the cotton and the light and dark hair of small, trusting heads
         used to lie all the stars that we wished on as kids. 
 
We marvelled at them, for they asked for nothing but their place in the sky to shine from -
        such a shift from the norm of corporate greed and consumerism. 
 
But even still, 
with their modest, noble wish 
        we seem incapable of granting the stars even this. 
 
We snuff out their spark with pollution -
       and we seem fine with having no solution.