Paper Plane
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Since you left, I've been unable to dream,
I toss about in tangled sheets all night.
And fold paper planes, odd as that may seem,
preparing the Night's fledgling fears for flight.
I believed we'd be together till death:
yet you cast me aside, alone and scared.
And left me no incentive to draw breath:
what kept me going was thinking you cared.
Each night, I scribble down my hurt and pain,
describing how you devastated me.
And fold the page into a paper plane;
willing the winds of fate to set me free.
I await a breeze to launch my letter:
knowing once it takes flight, I'll sleep better.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2022
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