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Your Hands
When I first meet somebody
Their hands are what I see.
That’s what I want to study
They mean the most to me.
Though I can’t just quite recall
The first time that we met,
I saw your hands above all,
The most when I’m upset.
You sit patiently and wait
Until I’ve had my say.
Tears eventually abate,
And then you make my day.
You give great advice to me,
But what means even more,
Your hands embrace and hold me,
It never seems a chore.
They rest gently on my arm,
You know just what to do.
For hands that could do such harm,
They care and pull me through.
I have seen you when you’re mad,
Your hands - they clench and shake.
And I’ve seen you when you’re sad,
Your hands are still - I ache.
Your hands are always moving.
You use them when you talk.
When you are disapproving,
Your enemies they mock.
Saw you play an instrument,
You played just like a star.
Though it’s strange I do consent
They’re graceful, your hands are.
I know that you play hockey,
I know you like to fight.
Your hands are never cocky,
But they do show your might.
They are strong and muscular,
But they can be so kind.
They write, they play and they are
The main thing on my mind.
I know you want to hold her
I understand your pain.
It hurts so when the centre
Of your dreams was in vain.
And yes, I truly get it.
Almost the same for me.
It’s hard for me to admit,
How I hope it could be.
I want to belong with you,
To have the hands I love,
For my wishes to be true,
It’s all that I’ve dreamed of.
I love you.
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Hoping you (two?) the best of luck,
Atlantic Southeast Airlines INC.