Moon rocks, I suppose, are like any other rocks.

Yet they come from so far away.

And that makes them something special,

But only to those who care.

And I don’t care for rocks so much

As for the things that can’t be hauled away.

Like the feeling that you get looking at rocks

With friends who are there to stay.

And yet, at end of day, 

I wouldn’t mind a trip to the moon

If I could make it there and back in a few days.

But I don’t think I would fill my pockets with rocks

Unless the friend I brought

Thought that they were beautiful.