the stars could refuse to shine for us,
destiny can turn around and walk away in disgust,
the rain can laugh and hide itself away,
the sun could continue to spit angry fire at the world,
while the moon curses its fate,
and the trees could refuse to stop the leaves from falling.
every poet that ever existed could throw his verses out the window.
and the oceans could dry up overnight.
the entire universe could come to a screeching halt,
but nothing can stop the flute that plays
every time you look at me.