The paper boats,

They sink and they sail.

They tell of a time where 

You had no ink veins dotting your hand 

That remind you of useless things,

That will not take you where you want to go,

Or what you want to be.               

But you long forgot how to fold the ships 

Which you would pretend

would take you somewhere 

That you will never see. 

But you endure the papercuts to fold 

Such perfect lines 

And remember such perfect times.