Paper Planes

One night she cried about a thousand rivers.
Shades of gray, sweet as lime and bitters.
But there's a stair at the back of her mind.
Climb and the land of make-believe you'll find.

She looks up and smiles at the purple sun.
Hums a pretend song, she's the only one.
Dances around 'cause there's no one about.
As she reads the stories written in the clouds.

But dark clouds have begun to gather.
Drops of despair will slowly bury her.
The stories they come with yellowed papers.
Make believe can crumble, she discovers.

The fields will never again taste of honey.
And cows of green once seemed funny.
But pretending was an escape that came easy.
In her little room they called insanity.