I Hate Myself

Across the sky,
The stars in my mind,
Like tiny dots,
So distant from eachother,
And yet so many.
How do I tell the difference?
The placement,
The arrangement,
What does it matter?
I've already found my place.
The only one I look for, is the closest brightest sun.
In the dark,
So far away are many stars in which I can barely see.
Why wish upon one?
I can't reach them anyway.
Physics.
Fitness.
I'm to old and short to be an astronaut.