Discarded, recycled.
This is my 2nd life
folded neatly by a child
precise in my form.
I extend my frail wings
to the tune of flight
of the mayas above
until the ends of the cheap telescope.
Be free, what's more for me?
To the puffy, soft and light serenity
in colors of blue and white
lie, rest to the comfort of dreams
From white to the land
caught sight of the ground.
Sharp. Short. Quick.
to the hands of my master kid
me, the paper plane.
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