paper plane

Folded. Torn.
His new playmate is born.
Aim. Release.
It glides with the breeze.
Smile. Run.
Nothing is more fun.
A plane. A piece of paper.
Just made his day happier.

-end of poem. (alex. 2012)

your imagination is fascinating. there, you can do whatever the fuck you want. there, you are free. imagine that. :)