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My Paper Plane

Gemma Ligtendag

Amongst the clouds of white,

My paper plane fights the strong winds of my words, 

They try to drag my plane to the ground. 

The heaviness of them is hard to fight. 

But my plane flies on.


Ingrained onto the crisp paper wings,

My words bear the burden of my thoughts of you,

I’m sorry you must read them but it's got to be said, 

Despite the fact you are now dead.

Higher and higher my plane now flies. 

The booming sun threatens to blind your eyes.

But the words are coming your way. 

My plane flies on


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