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My hand
Dear hand,//
 
 I admire your strength, beauty, and perseverance/
 I know I put you through a lot,/ but you are always there for me/
 The burn I left on you from the hot oven/
 The unattractive, chipped, black nail polish/
 The accidental fall /
 And every know and then, blisters from my #2 pencil,/
 You must really despise that thing by now//
 
 But you have survived/
 You survived the harsh winter/
 The un-bearingly hot summer/
 The breezy fall/
 And the rainy spring//
 
 Your silk brown skin compliments the rest of me/
 Your long fingers provide me with some help/
 Even your small beauty mark reminds me of how precious you are/
 I use you for sports/
 I use you for eating/
 I use you for working/
 
 But you have gotten your revenge,/
 The slip-ups, where your fingers scratch me too hard/
 Where they land in my eye or nose/
 You know what I am talking about//
 
 But then again maybe you don’t,/ because you do not have eyes/
 You cannot speak with out a mouth/
 You cannot hear with out ears/
 And you cannot understand what I am talking about/
 After all, you are just a hand//

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