An Unclaimed Son
Marked out as something that did not belong, An oddball with a number not a name; A newborn whose hereditary was wrong, And with ancestry
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Marked out as something that did not belong, An oddball with a number not a name; A newborn whose hereditary was wrong, And with ancestry
In ancient times your reddened sands, Were struck by courtiers from space; They scarred you with their giant hands, Then watched as tears fell down
Has science reached a new frontier, A quantum mess launched in to space; To combat growing doubt and fear, A first step in an unseen
Fast radio bursts come from outer space, We measure them and try to plot their trace; First thought to be some cataclysmic scar, Lost echoes
If Bowie were a scientist He’d have colonized the moon, And built an elevator That would have us there by noon. If Bowie were
LIGO has found waves without light, In finding them Einstein was right; General laws of his were smart, Our Universe beats like a heart.
So you were once a star that could not shine; Your mass too low, reactions could not start. A lonely planet, that was your design;
When satellites let out their final breath They must be mapped and never left in peace, For fear of their reprisal after death The
Your reddened skies and barren soils conceal A frozen mass, but once it was a sea Infrared telescopes can now reveal What could and should,
Signing up to the new frontier, Travelling to no atmosphere. One-way ticket to the unknown, Knowing there’s no direction home. Voyaging in to the