To Live, To Move

Walking into her room, paper cranes fly

Forward they go, onward on strings held high

Many colors gliding on dry white string

Imagination took time to tape sky


They are flat paper, yet she still does cling

To that fantasy, with enough love they ring

Ring the sound of birds, of burning real life

She wishes hard, fingers to paper cling


The paper bites, she holds a bitter strife

Tears fall, wings from water weight bend from rife

A wish, dream, impossible reality

Wings bend from tears, heads bob from wind, false life


And yet… she is happy

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