mundane things were easy to overlook
then change came with the new
and the nostalgia of familiarity flooded my headspace
with thoughts that grew wings
who knew such things were missable?
burdens that one would hope to be gone,
and they are, yet they were crafted like paper airplanes
every edge folded with the creativity and wanderlust of childhood
but now those things belong to the wind.
even while i ponder it inconsiderately blows them away,
sending them off,
in the direction of the moon.
maybe on my deathbed the dreams that were stolen and forgotten will come to mind.