Paper Planes | Poetry

We are all made of dreams

We all want to touch the sky

And find our ‘why’

But we have our excuses

For one, the sky is too high

Or the laws of nature are a complete lie.

While I was busy feeding myself

These sugar-coated lies

The girl sitting by the window

Daydreaming in her wheelchair

Grabbed a piece of paper

And wrote about her dreams

She folded it in an airplane

And flew it out of the window

And that’s when I saw her touch the sky.