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Calluses
Actions are your hands,
Blisters are the hurt,
Calluses are walls,
Put up to mask the divert.
But blisters only come,
After trying, trying again,
And then thin skin is worn away,
To find it’s all gone to no end.
Calluses feel nothing,
They won’t go anywhere,
Until your hands aren't in pain,
And you brave the wear and tear.
But how to stop the cycle?
Will you cease to enlist?
Will you get some gloves?
Or will you simply persist?

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