Shooting stars crossing the abyss of the night sky,
Leaving behind a beautiful golden trail.
I always crossed my fingers and made a wish,
But the wish from the star seemed to always fail.
Our love was like a shooting star,
Disguised with beauty and golden promises.
But it was only shown at certain times,
And left much residue of distress. Something beautiful that promised something great,
But the wishes were never allowed to become true.
Oh what a shame it is that I wasted,
All my shooting star wishes on you.