I am a plane

I have just flown to Rome, Paris, Mumbai and New York this week

I see little kids gawking at my massive body

I hear a multitude of people talking in many different dialects

I see people as tiny blips on my windshield

I am like a construction site, with trucks, people and stairs all over me

I carry everything from luggage to horses to oranges in my belly

I can smell the horrid smell of jet fuel emulating from the other planes

I have loaded all the passengers with all their precious cargo

I long for the feel of wind on my wings, to see the world like a bird

I long to fly