Dec 2, 2009


I fly by
past my dreams
oblivious to the shooting stars
as I stare at the little boy
who carried a basket of laughter on his back,
I look at his 9 coloured rainbow
as he rubs his crayons on the sky,
and paints the trees blue
I find my dreams rushing back
I find them flavoured with dew
Looking at the stars for the first time
I make a wish.


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