The Sun

I'm on FaceTime
And my aunt is talking
Right after I've told her
Everything that's been going wrong with my life—
She doesn't understand, just
Tells me to have a good outlook
And believe in the future
And the sky and the sun.
"I don't know if I believe," I murmur.
She doesn't get that, either.
"Eleanor," she says sternly,
"You have to believe. Whenever I'm sad
(Sad, not depressed)
I look up to the sky and the sun
Because the sun gives me guidance."
I nod politely and hang up
Because I can't tell her what I'm really thinking—
For all her love and faith 
In the sun and its greatness,
The sun's still just a damn star.