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Shameful Hands MAG
My father’s eyes
shamefully snare the scratch
that rests on my face.
like smears upon fresh snow.
Yet he is too familiar with
the hands that carved the foul mark, and
stubborn like the roadside boulder,
he refused to cease,
etching another.
© Anonymous
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This article has 4 comments.
SilverLuna SILVER said...
on Jul. 27 2010 at 7:26 pm
The short poem packs a punch, it's really amazing--and as said by angel*...it's intense. Always write.
AngelForeverBleedingLove DIAMOND said...
on Jul. 21 2009 at 5:16 pm
This poem is really intense. Please keep writing!
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