February 8, 2012
By duckwantsgrapes BRONZE, Bayonne, New Jersey
duckwantsgrapes BRONZE, Bayonne, New Jersey
2 articles 2 photos 0 comments

Hands go numb.
Try to circulate blood,
Moving fingers constantly.
No relief.
Index finger,
Middle finger,
They turn as white as snow.
Rest of the hand is pink and red.
“Cannot feel my fingers.”
It was a lie,
Feeling is there,
It hurts.
Convenience store shelter,
And hot water
To restore normality.
Raynaud says it is too cold to be outside.
Trust him.

The author's comments:
This poem is written about a disease that I have called "Raynaud's Phenomenon." It was inspired by my complete and utter hate towards the cold weather.

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