When I grow older,
I'll sit my grandchildren and tell them tales,
I'll tell them of the days Airplanes didn't fly anymore.
The skies were empty save for the celestial bodies.
The stars must have felt so lonely.
I'll tell them of the days we yearned to touch our loved ones,
They weren't so far but they were still so far.
The days we got tired of vacations.
We lived in fear, innocent hugs and kisses could get you killed.
Staring at the sky I write this,
The things we took for granted,
Loving our friends but never texting or calling them.
We were too busy, now all we have is time but
The buses are scarce,
You can't lay your head on his shoulder.
He could sneeze and you'd both die.
Airplanes don't fly anymore.
The skies are empty,
The stars must feel so lonely,
Like we do.