were sitting outside
watching the sky
a paper plane fly by
its times like this
that gets me by
the everyday struggle
in this modern times
memories like these
are like paint that
never dry
the paper plane still fly
it flyes with the wind
untill the sun burns it down
but the memory of you and me
will always stay in my mind
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem