Hands

My hands have a story of their own to tell

These hands use to expertly dribble a basketball,
Now they write inconsolable poems.
These hands use to enthusiastically give high fives,
Now they wipe away distraught tears.
These hands used to be barren and clean,
Now they hold scars and unspoken terrors.
These hands use to wave at anyone in sight,
Now they are used to push everyone away.
These hands use to color and create amazing things,
Now they are broken and given up hope

Reviews

[Pete]

so very raw and powerful. yes, stay strong!

[Amber]

Inconsolable... nice word! I don't think you have given up hope. the reason i say this is because you write! That is your minds way of keeping you alive and giving you hope.Thats just what i think.

[Najam Us Saher]

This poem clearly shows your emotions. Just stay strong.....I am sure that your hands will find perfect pair to hold them.

[Sir Drift & Mr. Pulse]

Im sure those hands will find themselves doing many new things, because your hands can learn so much.