Hands

Hands are time capsules.
Their touch passed on
To eternities of matter;
Holding a million memories
(They sob.)
Missing the feeling of security
We age,
Our hands become wiser.
A clenched fist
Holds centuries of love,
Of anger,
Of despair.
When heads turn on hands
(They weep.)
Hands tell our stories and misconceptions
Fear the anguish in our hearts.
So take my time capsules, my memories,
Security and love.
Take my stories, misconceptions,
My anguish
And grasp importance
(Of time.)
Without a hand
We will all fall
(To the ground.)





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Starrlyt said...
Mar. 30, 2010 at 11:51 am
wow. that's deep...
 
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