Paper People

He and I were made out of paper,

Both in paper universe and in paper reality,

We had crinkles from the previous analysis’; the way they speculated us,

The words they used were precise; an Exacto-knife to the paper-thin skin we wore,

Papers get soaked with water,

Humans change over time,

One rhyme after another,

When we each saw each other in the starry sky that night,

He; in the sun, and I; everywhere,

I couldn’t help but feel the need to save him,

My crinkles I felt everyday on my face,

I saw on his too,

I sensed that after a while he’d smooth it out for me,

Things other than he is what made those crinkles on the first place,

Not saying he is the main benefactor of my eventual demise,

He’s not,

This world and all of its inhabitants are what made me the way I am,

I have crinkles, and in some places; crumples where the world collided with my thoughts,

In some fields of my depth I have craters from when God placed his loving grace upon me; I was just too careless with his words,

This sheet of paper that I am, I am slowly not becoming anymore,

Because I am becoming something else entirely, another name of this material must be used,

Since paper is quickly becoming one of the overrated materials used by Creators, now humans are being used as day-to-day essentials,

I am a human,

And humans are like this; a rainbow of emotions on their broadened spectrum,

Nothing to calm them down but the very essence of their being.

 

 

 

Reviews

[Emily]

Very creative poem!
I like hoe you taking about the crinkles in the paper!
Loved it!!
Keep it up!!