The Paper Ship
Ell: It’s crew is vast but nonexistent.
Tom: An idea from the boredom of a lesson—bound infant.
Ell: And as it sails off into the distance,
Tom: a rosy fingered dawn.
Ell: Unimportant to the vast majority, except the golden boy.
Tom: Paper crumpled now, bottom of a bin
Ell: the fantasy replaced by another toy.
Tom: Born again another day, another boy.
