Papery wings are easily torn
and yet these wings were made to fly.
These wings can’t soar without support
and yet my muscles urge to try.
I leapt from heights with fatal falls
and let my paper wings fail me
just so yours would beat the winds
and catch me before my wings
I drew this picture before I wrote this poem. I guess you could say it was the inspiration. I’m sure you’ll notice how disproportionate the man’s hands are to the rest of his body; I didn’t do that purposefully. When I finished the drawing and looked back on it, at first I was ready to erase his hands and redo them; then I caught myself, thinking how wonderfully perfect they were for the message of the drawing, and the poem. An accidental point to be made.