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Where do all the airplanes go?
Flying through my window
They interrupt my better view
I turn in vain, nothing I can do
Moving seems the safest bet?
Past will not predict where I might get
So what is next is mystery
Trails of steam, the summer sun still makes my tea
Drinking up our sky
Until it’s gone we wonder why?
Spying high above reduces  life to dream
Hundreds squeezed for time check their self esteem
Repeating endless madness don’t they know?
Make believing how we make it so.
Doubts persist that we can keep it up
Worries drown another roars, will they not letup?

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