When I was a little kid,
dreaming about the world was all I did.
Idyllic was everything I used to see,
life was the way I wanted it to be.

First time I saw the news at age three,
beautiful stories were all I longed to see.

The moment I saw the headlines, those dreams were shattered.
My eyes were opened.

Airplanes were no longer doves of peace
bridging people of all nations.
Instead they became the deadly power of hatred in the human heart.

People lost their lives.
Airplanes as symbols of freedom and connection, childhood ideologies of peace and love,
died with them.

Sadness. Anxiety. Fear.
The darkened world was no longer the paradise I’d held so dear.

I mourn them still.