We used to fold
yesterday’s news
into paper planes
and believed the past
would launch into new horizons
if we pressed all the lines
into perfection
All our hopes for tomorrow
would be our reality
until we realized after all
they were once
a vat of pulp
and when the rain came
those planes would wilt
into a mess
our laughter would soon
turn into sour tears
Maybe
that’s why
I didn’t want to
grow up
Flicker of Thoughts 
Beautiful.
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Excellent poetry …
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Thanks 🙏
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My pleasure Cassa
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This is exquisite writing, dear Cassa. What a divine piece, truly enjoyed it 🤍🤗
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I am glad you like it Grace. ☺️💚
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Your selection for this publication is sublime.
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Thank you Rob. 😁☺️
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Love this.
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Yes, growing up means greater accountability which brings chaos and stress with it. The younger days are simpler and carefree. A very beautiful poem, Cassa. 🙂
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I love my childhood, we had little but so many rich memories.
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I love this poem, Cassa. 💚💚
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Thank you Jeff! 💚
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You’re welcome, Cassa! 💚
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Growing up is highly overrated, if only we knew this before losing the innocence and curiosity. Thank you for the reminder.
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So true.
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Wow! This opening is amazing!
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Thanks! 🤗
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Welcome! 🤗
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