I want to take a boat ride.
To my own special paradise.
Where the birds only sing my songs,
And my metaphors aren't so sad.

I want to travel across the ocean.
To the other side of my upturned smile.
Where the sky is that pretty pretty blue,
And my odes show true reverence.

I traveled on my small paper boat.
Written on it were words of a sad journey.
The birds are dead, and the sky is a dull dull grey,
And my poetry pretentious elegies.

© Mae