My wrist

November 5, 2010
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My wrist is my sacred place.
My place of happiness and pain.
My wrist is my canvas
Where all my art is made
My wrist has no boundaries
No right or wrongs
My wrist is where I live, where I belong.
My wrist knows my up”s and knows my downs
My wrist is where I go when no one is around.
My wrist is made of pretty colors
Mostly red.
My wrist is where you’ll find my life story when I'm dead.
My wrist is my safe haven
Where all my troubles go.
My wrist is the river which all my worries flow.
My wrist is my scrapbook which all my memories lye.
My wrist is the place where I’ll write my final goodbye.

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