Paper Planes
A restaurant full of families
And I sit there with mine
A broken one, where none of our souls are combined
Three of us seated and three phones on the table
Waiting for one of us to pick it up and pretend they're stable
Hotel bill in my hands have turned into pretty aeroplanes
But little do they know
My planes don't fly anymore
They are designed to look like they enjoy the skies
Yet my plane still dreams of its first flight
My plane wants to capture the strong gushing winds
And use them all to fuel its wings
A leap of faith is all it wants to take
But after all it's just a paper plane, so it sits in a restaurant as they both empty their plates.
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