Paper-Dolls And Gossamer Wings Poem by cheryl davis miller

When we take the time to look
we notice quite a lot.
Tho different on the surface
we're more alike than not.

If you cut us we will bleed
or wound us we will cry.
Leave us to ourselves to long
we’ll curl up and die.

I think that’s why our Maker
came down so long ago.
When we can’t or won’t reach up
He reaches way down low.

Knowing we can't fill our voids
with people, wealth or things.
Apart from Him it amounts to
paper-dolls and gossamer wings.