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Strength in Delicate Form
January 15, 2014
These hands
Have been cut, bruised, and battered.
It doesn’t seem to have mattered
Because they heal.
Following demands
Though my thoughts are scattered.
Blank pages are flattered
With words written so real.
They’ve helped me stand,
Even after my heart was surely shattered.
Objects have clattered
Because of my stupid, lovely hands.
Oh, how wicked I did feel…
© Anonymous
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