Jagged heaps of once useful things piled up to the sky.
Faint traces of what they were before are still visible in each scrap.
The opulent world discards all this as they consume and churn.
A twisted warren of metal and trash lay ripe for the pickings.
Discarded children wander these scraps searching.
Trash turned to treasure that may keep them alive another day.
Cast away in the expanse of rubbish and failed purpose.
The forgotten still dream of their purpose beyond the scrapyards.
Through the twisted heaps of metal, a sea of stars opens up at night.
Wondrous light that shines down on eyes lit up like silver.
The stars belong to everyone and no one in equal measure.
They love the stars out here, on the edge, the only jewels they may ever see.
