people are made of paper

they can be big or small
and ruled or plain,
and perfectly smooth
or with a bit of grain.

you can take them and fold them,
fly them as planes
or float them as boats
in puddles in rain.

you can write poems and stories
that may inspire or destroy;
you can paint on them pictures
of sadness or joy.

you can crumple and throw them
right into the trash;
you can light them and burn them
until they’re just ash.

but please, if you ever see
a crumpled one,
try to iron them out—
tell them they’re not done

and if you ever come across
a piece torn apart,
try and tape back together
that broken heart.