Look at my hands
They grow older than I
Grip span diminishes
Life span increases
Flesh grows thin above
Joints grow wide within
A caress means more
Even if touch means less
Scars of invincible youth
Creases of skills learned
Pains of injury and repetition
Wonders of newborns held
Father did you ever
See me in your hands?
4 comments:
No words, buddy. No words.
It's astounding how our bodies betray us to ourselves. You've done a tremendous job explaining it.
Very profound work, sir.
I feel it, the more I type the more my carple's poor little tunnels ache.
Especially like the last two lines.
Just blog hopping.
Dude - where's your wordsmiths story?
Come on, please?
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