Bad Poetry: Spare yourself, don't read this

Ehhh... I had to write something; this is something.

In moon boots and in cahoots
Sharing secrets with the moon,
it’s full and there are no clouds; the moon can’t turn its back on me.
The moon has more mysteries than the sun and more admirers,
nocturnal animals conspire to the moon; it lights their sinister deeds.
See it in the day indeed, shepherding the tides,
she cries “oh my!”
caught in the moonlight, in disguise, by surprise,
the moon, the witness that never tells.
The moon, recipient of howling astronauts who metamorphose into monsters
The moon, filled with strange creatures that harbor stranger secrets.
Shed some light, on the night,
shed some light, on the night,
shed some light, on the night,
in the morning it’ll be all right.
But for now we’ll
share our secrets
and
spill our guts
to the moon.