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Knit Personality Aug 2015
I wish to be that rarest kind of artist:
The greatest artist of my ilk and age.
I wish to be that one who flies the farthest
The paper airplane made of ink and page.
I do not wish to be this flying ace
For medals or for glory or for fame:
I wish to tell the eons of your grace,
And loop the sky forever with your name.
But I'm no clever paper engineer,
And flawed design will keep my plane aground.
No matter how it's thrown the crash-site's near
Because its whole construction is unsound.
My plane won't fly because it has no wings,
And good intent can't fly the lightest things.
Moumita Mitra Jul 2018
Those childhood days,
How much I miss them
Because those were the best days of life.
Paper planes, Paper boats were very part of that life.

If rain was in town,
I, with my friends made paper boats,  Wrote letters for the Rain.
Boat sailed and we watched the sailing boat with the letters written on each.
Those childhood days,
How much I miss them now.

If it was some other day,
I, with my friends played with the paper planes.
From here to there those planes flew and we enjoyed running behind them
As the pilots for them.
Those childhood days
How much I miss them
Because those were the best days of life.

Now, only memories sail and fly
Paper Boats and Paper Planes find place as bookmarks.

Hope someday in near future they will sail and fly,
May be not for me but for my junior one.
Our childhood's prime game;
Creating a paper plane.
Making it fly high,
But it never reached the sky.

We would continue to raise the bar,
But still we wouldn't get very far.
We would trust a redesign,
But never anything different from our own design.

We would work soley for ourselves;
To keep the success to ourselves.
We would spend all day redesigning a paper plane,
But never on redesigning our life's shame.

We live for a paper plane
And its thrill - day by day.
We would accept our life's flaws,
But never our paper plane's flaws.

We would live for irrelevant people and objects,
But never for our own salvation.
We would live with a self-opinionated attitude,
But why do we now live with our opinion based on that of the world?

We live like a paper plane;
Flying high, just to be redesigned.
The world never helps us stay sane
As we're always seen as a failed design.
Amalinna Zainal Jul 2017
I write my secret thoughts about you,
On that crumple paper.
Then, I turned that crumple paper into a paper plane.

I made that paper plane.
As a messenger to connect myself to you.

Yet,
My messenger fly…
But never reach you.

And that’s the reason
My thoughts about you
Stay as a secret.
- Y
(Sat, 3rd June 2017)

— The End —