Childhood Of A Pilot

When I was a child,

There were a million questions in my mind.

Why the sky is blue, not pink?

I used to wonder with a blink.

Whenever I looked at the sky,

I would wave a bye,

To the birds and clouds.

Whenever I heard a voice so loud,

I saw a plane flying,

It made me smile.

And I would happily sit crying.

Then I took the old newspaper pile,

Folded it into an airplane.

Then I ran outside a few miles,

Across the lane.

I shouted zoom zoom zoom,

And blew the paper plane to air.

Once it landed me in doom.

My paper plane landed on my teacher's hair.

She took me to the principal,

Who gaze at me with rage.

Who was not my pal,

Told me to write an essay of hundred pages.

I was supposed to write about my aim,

I realized its hard, so I made a paper plane

An idea stroked my mind while playing this game,

"Why should I take so much pain?"

I wrote on paper about the airplane I saw,

The sky I love, the clouds I adore.

Finally, I submitted my essay without a flaw,

And from that day, the dream I bore,

To fly across the world in an aircraft,

 And visit countries and appreciate their craft.

And at last with hard work and determination,

I am a fighter pilot of my nation.