Ah, damn, I let her slip away
I could’ve talked to her
or thrown a message
on a paper airplane
but could’ve is such a nasty word
that paper airplane might not have
in the right direction
I could’ve made a fool of myself
without any success
I guess that doesn’t matter
I made an ass of myself by acting the past
of a perverted voyeur
or mad man follower
I suppose it doesn’t really matter how
I feel anymore
I’m always fucking things up
I’m gonna need more persistence if
I’m gonna make it
in the future
Maybe the paper airplane would’ve been
really cute afterall
I believe some of the best
I believe some of the best poems come out of not listening to an English professor. In my undergrad days (or daze) I studied with one great one, about three or four mediocre, and two who were as rotten as broken eggs on a sidewalk in the noontime heat.
Your poem is very poignant. Many times I wanted to launch a paper airplane for such purposes, but none of them ever got airborne. Frankly, none of the ambitions I had there ever got airborne.
Good poem, well-worded.
Starward
we all think back to those
we all think back to those paper airplanes we never launched. thanks for reading and commenting.