Hands by Danielle Ryan-Keefe (summer beach reads TXT) 📕

i am the hands of a baby,
i am soft and spongey,
new to the world and its textures,
i pull and touch and am mezmorized by air.

i am the hands of an old man,
i am wrickled and frail,
i've seen all types of days good, bad, rainy, and hot,
bare the scars of years of labor,
im nearing my end and losing my grip,
falling back to the baby years of no strength,
but i am wise hands tired but wise.

i am the hands of a soldier,
i hold steady and true to my weapons,
i dont flinch i dont shake for lives may be at stake,
im dry and chafed from severe weather,
im bruised and cut from my enimies,
but i am proud for i am the hands of freedom.

i am the hands of a gangmember,
i have my own form of signlanguage,
i can speak to other hands of battle and of peace,
i too hold true and steady to my weapons for my life's sake,
i have art of my home scroled on my knuckles,
and from birth this is all i've known.

i am the hands of a dancer,
i am graceful but firm,
i am moved by beats that pulse through my veins,
i curl into positions and wait for my ques,
i have been trained and strained to never miss my beats.

i am the hands of an athlete,
i am strong and agile,
i can lift 200 pounds,
i can cut through air like a knife for speed,
i've been broken from impacts but i heal just fine.

i am the hands of an artist,
i am dainty and skilled,
i can create colors with the help of a brush,
but only i know the pattern for the final strokes.

i am the hands of a computer tech,
i am cramped and pained,
i have carpletunal from smashing buttons,
i have the bones of hands twice my age,
however i am at one with technology and can experience the future.

i am the hands of a white collar worker,
i am boring but mature,
i am manicured and made to look good,
i spend my days typing and writing on my company's tab,
i wave to others at opposite cubicles,
i know if i stay in this cubicle im safe from the world.

i am the hands of a fisherman,
i am blistered and cracked,
i am callused so i no longer feel the sting of salt in my wounds,
i pray to catch lots of fish each year,
i am strained red from fish blood,
i have many tales to tell including those of sharks and whales.

Publication Date: 02-05-2012

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