No wings and a dire need to fly,

I need an airplane

and the fare is high.

Though I have been collecting for a while

in  boxes made of mud and wood

my money, is all in small coins

unspent on other desires since childhood.

For the flight

I pay the fare in coins

and after the rise I walk out of the plane,

without wings and a dire need to fly.

So again each day I collect coins

weirdly shaped and sized.

Some small like time, some heavy as my mind.

Having flown often you say ‘its just once or twice

maybe thrice and the thrill will die,

the airplane will loose its charm and so will the flight’

but only if you knew how I had collected my coins

and how I had tore open all the boxes of mud and wood

for that airplane flight,

only if…

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